To the Four of Us
by hitthepin
Summary: Alexander Hamilton goes to King's College to get his education, where he meets a veritable cast of people. What, did you think that it was just the characters of Hamilton there? Oh, no. He's in for much, MUCH more than that. Fates and musicals weave together as a story is written.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Just you wait

Alexander Hamilton wasn't exactly an ordinary college student, he reflected. The story of how he had gotten where he was standing where he was still blew his mind, and he was the one who had lived it.

First, it was life on that fleck of an island on the Carribean. Then, his father leaving and his mother dying. And then his brother vanishing from his life, just like the wind, passing through for only a moment before disappearing, with no trace that it have ever been there before.

Then the hurricane, devastating the world that Alex had known, ripping up houses and killing people left and right. It was everywhere, dominating, crushing everything in its path.

After it was over, Alex did the only thing that he could think of. He picked up his pen and wrote like the madman he was, filling out page after page with description about the horror and destruction that it had caused. To him, writing was as natural as breathing or walking. It was something he _did. _

Inexplicably, everyone had thought he was some bastion of mad talent. If you had asked him, he would have told you that he wasn't all that remarkable.

But those loudest in their favor for him scrounged together enough to cash to put him on a ship, and before he knew it, he was sailing on a ship to the United States of America. Going there to get a college education.

Of course, it could have been better planned out. They sent him a solid month _after _every college's semesters and classes had begun. Except for one college up the East Coast named King's College, that oddly enough, was just barely beginning.

So nineteen-year-old Alex's choice of colleges wasn't truly a choice at all. King's had accepted him, he had sailed on the ship, found the administration building, checked in without a hitch, and was now standing in front of room 1776, the place that would be his new home for the next four years.

_So many coincidences. So many things that just happened to line up for me to get here. _Alex thought to himself. _Why do I feel like I've lived this story before? _

He shook his head to dislodge his silly thought. No. He was just one guy. This was his day, and today was going to be a good day.

With that, he pushed open the door and stepped through, only to realize that the door was locked, the realization punctated by him smashing his nose into the hard surface.

Groaning, Alex half-blindingly jammed his key into the keyhole, turned the knob, and _only then _walked into the college dorm.

It was an absolutely tiny place, but manageable. Two twin beds pushed up against the wall, two desks next to them. A door that presumably led into a bathroom. Two nicely sized windows letting the sun in.

Sitting on the chair was what looked like a similarly-aged boy wearing a blue polo shirt and an extremely large, unwieldy-looking cast, furiously scratching out something on a piece of paper in front of him.

Alex took a deep breath and said in the most confident voice he could muster, "Hey. Guess you're my roomate. I'm Alex."

The boy jumped up as though he'd been shocked, his pencil skidding one way and the paper flying the other way.

"Wow." Alex said. "I know I'm exciting, but try to contain it a bit."

The boy looked at him confusedly before cracking a semi-reluctant grin. "Ah. I get it. Ha ha."

"So, who might you be?" Alex asked, extending a hand.

At this, the other boy firmed his jaw and extended the hand that wasn't in a cast.

"Evan." he replied. "Evan Hansen."

* * *

**Hey all. It's HTP here, your favorite author on obscene major crossovers. **

**So, yeah. I've been a fan of Hamilton (and the other three famous modern musicals) for quite a while now, and I thought that I'd pitch in a fiction about it. And now we've got this. Yeah. I have no idea where it's going to go, when I'm going to update it, heck, I don't even know if you're going to get to a Chapter 2. Don't bash my head in if it doesn't arrive. **

**With that being said, do leave a review! How far do you want this to go? What do you want to see in it? Don't disappear. Let your voice be heard. **

**Raise a glass to freedom, and until next time, True Readers!**


	2. Chapter 2: Always Looking In

Chapter 2: Always Looking In

"Mind giving me a tour of the place?" Alex requested.

Evan sighed and stood up. "Sure. Might as well. I've got nothing better to do."

And so the two of them exited the room and began to walk around the beautiful campus, Evan pointing this way and that at various important structures.

They were just walking past the cafetorium where Alex randomly looked at someone, said, "Oh! I know him," and ran off to go talk to that someone, leaving Evan standing alone.

"No way," a voice said mockingly off to the side. "Evan having a friend other than me? That couldn't be true. Must be a boyfriend."

Evan inwardly groaned. "He's my freakin' roomate, Jared. Buzz off,"

He felt an arm drape itself across his shoulders, and finally compelled to, he raised his head and looked at his friend.

"Hey, why you look so down, buddy?" Jared asked. "Guys like us? We're cool in college! You should be talking to girls! Climbing the ladder of popularity!"

"First of all: no." Evan replied. "Second of all: no. And in case you have something else that you want to add to it: no."

"Dude. How do you expect to ever be happy when you don't give yourself the chance?" Jared asked, walking in a new direction and forcing his friend along with him.

The plan of forcing his friend along with him, however, was quickly defeated by another boy dressed in black rudely bumping into Evan, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Jared stopped and extended a hand to his fallen friend. "You alright?"

Evan accepted the proffered hand, picking himself up from the ground. "Who the heck does that guy think he is?"

Jared glanced at the now-retreating figure. "What, you haven't heard of Connor Murphy? The crackhead who's always high?"

Evan blinked. "Connor… Murphy?"

"Yes. Connor Murphy. That's his name." Jared says, lightly slapping his friend on the cheek in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

Evan blinked, shook his head, and finally began to walk along with Jared.

"You know, where are you taking me, anyway?" Evan asked.

"Where am I taking you? I'm taking you to meet some friends! Think of it like me doing your job for you," Jared said.

Evan sighed, and sensing that his friend wasn't going to let up, submitted to getting led along by his friend to wherever the heck he was taking him.

Many hours later, after the sun had gone down and the moon had come up and drinks and stories had been shared, Evan and Jared were stumbling back in the direction of the dorms confusedly.

So many names and faces and drinks. Evan couldn't remember a single thing that had happened, or even what had happened at all.

_You know what? Maybe this is alright, _he thought to himself. _I'm mellowing out. That's good enough. _

"So, why were you so confused about Connor earlier?" Jared said, a slight slur to his words.

Evan sighed. "You're my best friend, al-"

"Your only friend," Jared interjected.

"Only. Friend." Evan said, gritting his teeth a little. "So I'll tell you. But only if you can keep it a secret." 

"Ah, what the hell. Sure!" Jared replied, throwing his hands up in the air exaggeratedly. "Go ahead. I won't say a word."

Still doubtful, Evan marched on anyway. "Do you know a person named Zoe Murphy?"

"Zoe… Murphy…" Jared said thoughtfully to himself. It was an awkward moment of silence before he replied. "Oh, yeah. Of course I do. Why would you… oh. Oh."

"What?"

"You got the hots for her!" Jared said in realization, a drunken grin breaking out on his face. "Oh, man. That's too good. How do you even know her? Man, I gotta tell everyone!"

"It's none of your business. And clearly, telling you was a mistake," Evan said, turning away.

Jared grabbed him and spun him around again. "Hey. It's alright. I promise I won't tell anyone. Heck, I bet I won't even remember in the morning!" At this, he began to laugh delightfully, despite the lack of humor in any of his words.

"Alright, alright. Real funny," Evan replied.

And the two friends walked forward into the night, ready for whatever awaited them.


	3. Chapter 3: Raise a Glass

Chapter 3: Raise a Glass

"Pardon me. Are you Aaron Burr, sir?" Alex said, grabbing the shoulder of the person he was following and forcefully turning him around.

The man - no, boy, he was still in college - spun around to face him. Tall, dark, bald, dressed sensibly and with a careful, guarded expression on his face that suddenly turned into a wide smile that couldn't be genuine.

_Why does it feel like I've met this guy before? _Alex questioned.

"Well, that depends. Who's askin'?" he replied.

"Well, sure, sir. I'm Alexander Hamilton, I'm at your service, sir. I've been looking for you -"

"I'm getting nervous." The other boy, who Alex was now convinced was in fact Aaron Burr, began to walk away.

Alex ran after him and began to walk next to him, still talking. "I heard your name -" Where had he heard Aaron's name? He couldn't quite remember. "Before. I was seeking an accelerated course of study."

"Woah, woah, woah." Aaron said, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. "Here. I've got some free advice for you."

_I still had things left to say, _Alex thought angrily.

"Talk less," Aaron suggested.

"What?" Alex replied, bewildered.

"Smile more," he continued, emphasizing his point with a hand gesture and a widening of the insincere grin on his face.

"Haha." Since when had that philosophy ever gotten Alex anywhere?

"Don't let them know what you're against, or what you're for," Aaron concluded, his voice like a winding river, trying to wash over Alex.

"You can't be serious," Alex said.

"You wanna get ahead?" Aaron questioned.

"Yes."

"Fools who get in my way end up dead."

"I'm sorry, what?" Alex questioned.

"My bad," Aaron said, hurriedly backpedalling. "I meant to say, 'Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead,'"

"So, where are we going?" Alex questioned as they came up to a building that Evan hadn't gotten to on their tour. A large wooden sign that read, "Sam Adams" hung above the entryway.

"We're going to have a drink," Aaron said, pushing the Hamilton through.

"Showtime, showtime, WHAT?" shouted a voice from within the restaurant - or tavern, now that Alex thought about it.

The place was pretty crowded, filled with all sorts of college students of all sorts of different kinds. Most of the attention, though, was seemingly focused on a table in the center, where three boys of seemingly around the same age were drinking, cheering, and singing in equal measure.

"Well, if it ain't the prodigy of our college!" said the voice from earlier, emanating from a cute-looking guy with a whole bunch of freckles.

"Aaron Burr!" all three of the people at the table chorused.

"Hey, who's the guy with you?" one of the people at the table asked, one with a very large stature.

"Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton." Alex said.

"Hey, yo, I'm John Laurens in the place to be!" said the first person.

"Oui, oui, mon ami, je m'appelle, Lafayette!" the second person said, a tall, aristocratic boy with his hair done up in a ponytail.

"I don't need an introduction…" said the third person. "But I'm Hercules Mulligan. And I-"

"Sew," Lafayette interjected.

"Excuse me, but sewing is a very dignified practice!" Hercules defended while everyone else erupted into laughter.

Alex got the feeling that he was going to get along quite well with these people.

* * *

_Many hours later._

"I may not live to see our GLORY!" shouted Alex in an extremely off-key rendition of the song from that musical that everyone else at the table somehow knew.

"I may nOOOOTT live to see our GLORY!" shouted John, Laf, and Herc.

"But I will gladly -"

"Sweet Jesus. How many pints of that are you going to have?" Aaron asked, literally facepalming. For being the one who suggested getting a drink in the first place, he hadn't drank one sip of alcohol.

"I WILL GLADLY JOIN THE FIGHT!" the other three people at the table chorused, drowning Burr out.

"And when OuR cHiLdReN tElL oUr STORY!" Alex continued.

"Heh heh," John muttered under his breath.

"Come of age, with our young nation," Hercules murmured.

"You will be found," Lafayette whisphered.

"Sorry, what?" Alex questioned.

"THEY'LL TELL THE STORY OF TONIGHT!" Alex's friends replied, snapping out of their own individual thoughts and back into reality.

"Let's have another round tonight!"

"Let's have another round tonight."

* * *

It was a severely drunk and confused Alex that stumbled into his dorm at 12:00 that night, only still alive because Aaron had made sure that he didn't randomly fall into a ditch or something.

Oddly enough, his roommate was still awake, the lights still on, still writing on a piece of paper, much like how he had been when Alex found him earlier that day. What was his name again? Ethan? Eddie? Something that started with an E…

"H-h-hey…" Alex slurred, before collapsing in his bed.

"Fun night, eh?" Evan's brain was admittedly a little sluggish as well. He was having a hard time formulating words.

"Yeah….." Alex looked thoughtfully at the wall for about ten seconds. "I think I'm going to have a great time here."

Evan sighed. "Good for you. Good for you."

And that was the first day.

* * *

**Hey all. Thanks to all of you fine people who left a few words. I really do appreciate it. **

**Happy Thanksgiving! Hope you're having a good time. Relax, take a break, and spend some time with your family. Time is ticking quickly, and I'm glad that you've spent some of yours reading my fic. **

**Until next time, True Readers!**


	4. Chapter 4: If You Join Us Right Now

Chapter 4: If You Join Us Right Now

Before a long, arduous task is approaching, such as a heavy course load of a college semester, the first day is often a good indicator of how that task is likely to go.

Alex walked into the classroom and looked around at the massive auditorium. Completely lost, he randomly decided to walk into a row and sat down next to a girl who didn't acknowledge him.

It was just as well, because the bell had just rung, the last few students trickled into the room, and the teacher, an unattractive middle-aged woman, took to the front of the room.

"Hello, class!" Dear God. Her voice was the most irritating thing Alex could have ever imagined, like a beginner violin student playing. "I'm Mrs. Fleming, and I'm absolutely _delighted _to be your English teacher for this semester!"

"So to begin, why don't you introduce yourself to the person next to you, and tell them one interesting thing about yourself! Get some nice _feeling _in!" Mrs. Fleming went on.

_What the hell does any of this have to do with learning? _Alex thought to himself.

Nonetheless, he turned in his seat at the girl next to him and said, "Alexander Hamilton. I, eh, write a lot." Sure, he had to say something, but he wasn't going to start spilling his entire life story.

"Veronica. Sawyer." the girl replied haltingly. "I… enjoy popular movies."

Alex got the feeling that she, too, was holding a whole lot back, but wisely decided not to press over the demands of a hippie teacher.

The boy looked down, where a guy with a big bushy afro and a fuschia sports jacket was loudly talking with three girls dressed in red, yellow, and teal.

"Who are they?" Alex asked aloud.

Veronica turned in her seat and grinned. It wasn't a happy grin.

"They? _They _are the Heathers, and Thomas Jefferson, and _they _are some of the least pleasant people that you'll ever meet in your life. They're the 'popular' kids."

Alex groaned mentally. He knew a thing or two about entitled idiots.

An eternity of stupid activities and Thomas talking and talking and talking, and English was finally over.

_Y'know, maybe college isn't all that it's cracked up to be, _Alex thought to himself as he trudged out the door.

The next class was just basic history. Hopefully, it'd be better. Alex had always loved history.

A few minutes of walking later, and Alex found himself inside a room not unsimilar to the one he'd just been in. And yes, Thomas and the Heathers were still there, whoever they were. More importantly, John and Laf were also there, who quickly smiled and waved their friend over.

"Good to see you, mon ami," the Frenchman said as Alex settled in the seat next to him.

"How's it going, buddy?" John asked with a giant smile on his face.

However, the last bit that his friend had said seemed to fade away as Alex's attention was suddenly directed towards a few rows in front of him.

Sitting in a chair in towards the front of the room was the most beautiful girl that he'd ever seen in his life. Short, straight black hair framed a sweetly smiling face that just seemed to emanate warmth and kindness. Her dark eyes glittered with intelligence and a seeming cunning. She wore a pair of casual fit jeans and a baby blue jacket.

Alex was utterly enraptured. He was _helpless. _

He didn't notice John, right next to him, his lips somewhat curving down into a frown.

But only for a moment. He tapped his friend on his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

"Alex. Alex. Earth to Alex," John said, waving his hand in front of Alex's face.

Finally, Alex stopped staring and returned to reality.

"Who _is _that?" Alex breathed.

"Hm?" John looked down, pretending to not be aware of who his friend was looking at. "The Schuyler sisters?"

"Sisters?" Only then did Alex notice the girl sitting next to the object of his affection, with skin the color of chocolate wearing a fiery red outfit. "They don't look like sisters at all."

"Don't say that to their face. They hate hearing that," John recommended. "Angelica's a sophomore here, Eliza's a freshman like us, and Peggy's a senior in high school. She'll be here next year."

Alex just blinked dumbly.

Lafayette sighed. "Mon ami, pay attention. Class, it is starting."

This snapped the boy to attention, as the pencil in his hand began to quiver with anticipation over the sheet of paper as the professor walked to the front of the room.

"Hello, class." Unlike Mrs. Fleming, this man's voice was quite calm. Deep. Relaxing. Alex found himself already liking him. "I'm Mr. Washington, and welcome to history class."

Thomas began to continually whisper loudly to somebody sitting next to him, a shorter black guy wearing a grey polo shirt.

"Mr. Jefferson," Washington said, pointing at the boy, and Alex took a little thrill in the tiny surprise jump Thomas made in his seat.

To his credit, he recovered quite quickly. "Yes, sir?"

"Perhaps there's something that you'd like to say to the class?" Mr. Washington said dryly. "I did have some debates planned to help us all break the ice. Perhaps you'd like to be the first."

Thomas stood up. "Gladly," he said, his lip curling into a devious smirk.

"Who would you like for the opposing team?" Mr. Washington said.

Thomas smirked as his eyes roamed the room, stopping when they landed on Alex.

"I'll take the immigrant," he said, eyes glinting.

Alex suddenly felt dizzy for a moment.

_He's said that before! When has he said that before? _he questioned.

But after a moment, the feeling faded away, and was replaced by anger and indignance. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

"Mr. Hamilton." Washington pursed his lips, obviously not liking Thomas' word choice. "Please come to the front of the room."

As though he was in a dream, floating, Alex saw his legs carrying him to the front of the room. He felt the weight of everyone's eyes on him. He made eye contact with that girl - Eliza, she must be - before breaking it and standing next to the second podium.

"Your topic will be on the current debate over immigration that's also occurring at the highest levels of our government today. Hamilton, you will be for, and Jefferson, you will be against."

"Jefferson. You'll be starting us off. Take it away." Washington took a step back until he was standing in between the two.

Jefferson cracked a cocky grin. "Immigrants. What can I say? They're literally illegal. The image of the hardworking immigrant trying to make a living in our country? That's a lie. The government's spending on foreign aid is so vast, they hardly need to work. They take up space and waste valuable resources that we could instead be using for the betterment of people who deserve it. We need to get rid of them. Now."

Alex didn't think that a person could piss him off so much, but boy, was he mad. He felt his blood literally boiling.

"You mention a group of people who are somehow 'more deserving' than immigrants, Thomas," Alex began. "But what are we - America - if not a nation of immigrants? Without immigrants, this nation would not even exist. We would be nothing. Immigrants take the important jobs that nobody else wants, the jobs that hold our nation together. They start with nothing, and from nothing, they make a name for themselves."

"Yeah, you're right about that nothing," Jefferson replied.

"I'm sorry?" Alex clenched his fists.

"Look at you! Is that really the only pair of jeans your whore of a mother could afford for you?"

A tad bit of dizziness had returned, but Alex pushed it away. This guy would _not _get off talking to him like that.

"Hey, turn around, bend over, and I'll show you where my shoe fits!" he spat, and the two boys launched themselves at each other.

Washington got in between them and pushed them apart.

"Alright, ALRIGHT. That's enough. Jefferson, take a walk. Hamilton, take a walk!"

Thomas glared and trudged back to his front-row seat. Alex made his way back to his own.

The weight of everyone's eyes on him wasn't a discomfort. He bathed in it. Friend or enemy, now at least everyone knew who he was.

"Did you really have to do that, Alex?" John asked as Alex sat back down.

"Absolutely."

* * *

**Hey all. It's me, HTP, the fanfiction author that you all know and love. **

**If you've seen some of the other things I've been doing on this site, you might realize that I'm not... exactly what you'd call a normal fanfiction author. This is my first shot at trying anything even resembling normal. **

**So, do leave a review! Let me know how you're doing. Is there any musical in particular that you'd like to see! If so, just say so, and I'll probably bury myself in their soundtrack for five hours just for you. **

**Thanks for reading, and until next time!**


	5. Chapter 5: One of Those Guys

Chapter 5: One of Those Guys

Jared just sighed a little as he watched Evan's new "friend" scream and shout at the front of the history room. Just what he needed. Now, he'd probably have to babysit two insane people instead of one.

Eventually, Mr. Washington had passed out the syllabi, the bell had rung, and everyone slowly began to pack up and move out. At long last, lunch had arrived.

The young man just waited for Evan to come out, and the two of them walked over to the nice preplanned lunch area. Shade, quiet, a view that didn't strain the eyes. What more could a person want?

Two other people appeared and walked towards the area the moment Evan and Jared had gotten there, seemingly talking and laughing with each other. Both of them were very recognizable.

"Jeremy! What is up?" Jared shouted, genuinely excited. He gave the fellow student a friendly punch on the shoulder.

Jeremy practically fell over from the force of the blow, and it was only thanks to Michael catching him that he didn't end up splayed on the ground.

"Hi, dude," he grumbled, before hauling himself back onto his feet.

"What's up, man?" Jared said, only marginally quieter. "How many girls have you been with?"

"None. What are you talking about?" Jeremy muttered.

"How is that possible? Anybody who looks like me must be completely balling," Jared said, grinning.

It had long been a common joke of Jared's that he and Jeremy looked similar. Indeed, people who didn't know the two of them all that well would often confuse them for each other. Nobody thought this brand of humor was humorous except for Jared himself.

While Jared continued his one-sided banter, Evan and Michael looked at each other awkwardly. They'd always been the friend of a friend, a member of a common friend group. They'd never really been close, and neither of them had been eager to really extend the hand of friendship.

At long last, Jared seemed to be done with whatever he was saying, and he sat down and stopped gesturing around excitedly.

"How's college?" Michael asked politely, finally getting a word in edgewise.

"The classes? All boring and easy," Jared said with a smirk. "The social situation? Meh. Boring, until you guys came around."

The group ate the food that they had, and simply relaxed and talked and enjoyed themselves. An actual good time. It felt like things could go on like this for a very long time. Maybe even for forever.

But alas. It had to end at some point. Time passes, just as it always does, and it was time for the group of friends to part. (_were _they friends, though? So Evan thought to himself as the meeting concluded. After all, even though they'd known each other a very long time, he hardly knew that many intimate details about anyone. And he barely felt a connection with any of them, on an actual, personal level. Did that make him a bad person? Did he just need to reach out more? Why weren't they reaching back? Why couldn't he just have a normal life and normal friends? Why couldn't-)

"So what's next for you guys?" Michael asked.

"I got Psych with you guys. Didn't I tell you already?" Jared said.

"Eh. Sounds like it could be fun," Jeremy mentioned.

"I got a free period," Evan muttered, but the threesome was already walking away, happily joking with one another and leaving him behind.

He sighed and hung his head, examining the sight of his shoes and the concrete below them.

It always happened like this. It _always _happened like this. Why? Why couldn't he ever be appreciated, like a normal human being? What was wrong with him?

He just needed an opening. An opportunity. Somebody to unlatch the window from the other side. Once that came along, he'd jump on it, and then! And then, he'd finally be accepted.

The sudden buzzing of his phone in his pocket cut through his unhappy thoughts.

Evan fished the device out of his pants. His mother was calling him. Of course. He loved her to death, but sometimes, she felt _way _too overbearing.

Still, though. It _was _a free period, and it wasn't like he had anything to do.

Sighing, he resigned to his fate and trudged off to the nearest computer lab.

* * *

"I just… I've never felt this way about anyone before," Alex explained as he walked down the hallway.

John rolled his eyes, while Herc laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Man, nobody's ever gonna trust you with a secret!" the young man replied, nearly guffawing.

"Alex, you've literally just met her today," John said, trying to reason with his friend. "You haven't even exchanged a single sentence."

"I met you guys _literally _three days ago." Alex shot back. "And we're friends."

"That's different," John said, looking away. "We actually ARE friends. Eliza, on the other hand, is still a total stranger to you."

"Why are you so adamant on me not liking her? Does she already have a boyfriend or something? Just say the word."

"No, no, she's single at the moment…" John conceded.

"Wasn't she going out with that Andre guy? Something Andre?"

"John Andre? No, no, no. They broke up ages ago. Haven't you heard?" John said dismissively.

"So what you're saying is there's a chance!" Alex exclaimed, throwing a fist into the air.

"Good luck with that," a familiar, deep voice said.

Aaron Burr cut through the rest of the crowd. Despite the many people and conversations that were going on all around, he had pinpointed exactly where Alex and his friends were, and had made a beeline right to them, others moving out his way.

"How do I get everyone to do that?" Alex asked when they finally stood face to face.

The boy grinned, two sets of shiny teeth appearing between his lips.

"Being son of the dean does have its perks, you know," he said with a slight smirk. "Class is going to be in session."

They had stopped right next to the door of the chemistry room. Alex stood on his toes to look through the window inside before immediately ducking back down.

"Yep. She's in there," he said.

"Try not to mess it all up in the first minute," Aaron suggested.

"This'll be fun to watch." Hercules laughed.

"Do tell me how it goes. I'm off to Stats," John said.

"Yeah, yeah, we will," came Hercules' sarcastic reply.

The three of them walked in, Alex politely letting his friends go first.

John watched the back of his new best friend's head enter the science classroom, admiring the way the sun hit the red curls. How he wouldn't like to just run his hands through them…

The door closed with a nice, quiet _hiss _between them.

The young man sighed. He pinched his thumb and forefinger together, and held it up high as though he were still at the bar, getting drunk.

"Raise a glass to freedom…"

One last quiet moment, and then John turned tail, ready to continue his walk alone.

* * *

**Be More Chill. The musical that absolutely nobody asked for, but what would you know? It's here anyway. **

**I apologize for the abrupt months-long hiatus that this went on. However, now that I've finished my other various projects, and gained enough time and sufficient motivation, I should be able to get chapters out with much greater frequency. **

**Mr. Assassin (man, cool name), I'll see what I can do about adding other musicals. I've got big plans for this fic. BIG plans. Many, many musicals will be included. **

**But for now, you're going to have to wait for it. Until next time, reader!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Sun Shines Bright

Chapter 6: The Sun Shines Bright

"Evan! Hello!" Heidi's voice on the other side of the phone seemed just a bit too excited and happy to be completely genuine.

"Mom. Hi." came the somewhat disinterested response.

"How have things been? Has it been an amazing day?" Her voice sounded much less strained than he'd heard in a while.

_Because she doesn't have to support you now, _he thought, before mentally shoving the idea away.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Evan forced a smile onto his face on instinct, despite the fact that no one was around to see it. "Today was an amazing day."

"I'm so glad to hear that!" came the enthusiastic response from the other side. "I'll bet you're appreciating all those hours you spent working at Pottery Barn now, am I right?"

"Yeah. You bet."

"Are the counselors over there good? You're getting the help you need, right?"

"Of course."

"How's that letter to yourself coming along? I know Dr. Sherman isn't your therapist anymore, but you should still be continuing to do that."

Evan stared at his blank computer screen in abject panic.

"Yeah. I… I have it done, actually. I'm in a computer lab, printing it out."

"I'm proud of you. Still my boy." Heidi's voice was full of warmth.

"Heh. That's me."

A click, and the phone call ended.

Evan hurriedly turned to the keyboard and began to rapidly type, saying the words aloud as he went.

"Dear Evan Hansen…" he began. Due to one arm being stuck in a cast, he found it somewhat difficult to type, but he carried on.

"Turns out that today was not an amazing day. It's not going to be an amazing day, or an amazing week, or an amazing year, because… why would it be? Why would it be any different?"

"Oh, I know. Because there's Zoe, and all my hope is pinned on Zoe, who I don't even know, and… who doesn't know me."

"If only I could just talk to her, then maybe everything could be different. Or… maybe nothing would be different at all. I… I wish everything was different, I wish I was part of something. I wish that something I said mattered, at all, to anyone."

He paused for a moment, unhappily chuckling for one moment before returning to conclude his letter.

"Face it, if I disappeared tomorrow, would anyone even notice? Would anyone even… care?"

"Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, me. And, print."

Evan leaned back in his chair while the school's printer slowly chugged. The chair was one of those nice ones that you can lean back on, and so he relaxed.

Which lasted for about one second.

"So," said an unfamiliar voice.

Evan spun around, and there was Connor Murphy, standing there as though he'd appeared in.

"What… happened to your arm?" Connor asked, almost shyly.

"Oh. Well… uh, I fell out of a tree."

"You… fell out of a tree."

"Yeah…"

"Well, that has got to be the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard."

"It… kinda is…" Evan said, trailing off.

The silence between the two boys in the computer lab stretched on for an uncomfortable length.

"I see that nobody's signed your cast," Connor broke in.

Evan instinctively looked down at it, despite knowing exactly what it looked like. "I guess."

"Well, here. Let me sign it for you."

Evan looked up. Connor suddenly seemed hopefully, friendly.

"Oh, no. You don't… you don't need to…"

"But I do want to. You got a pen?"

Evan hurriedly pulled out a pen that he conveniently had in his pocket and handed it over, almost dropping it in the process.

"And… there." Connor's name was written in such a large script that it practically covered the cast. "Now we can… now we can both pretend that we have friends."

"Uh… thanks," Evan said, hurriedly picking up his backpack and trying to leave the room.

"Hold on," Connor mentioned right as Evan was at the door. "Is this yours?"

He spun around to see Connor holding a sheet of paper. A paper that was definitely his letter.

"Dear… Evan Hansen. That's your name, isn't it. Right here."

"Yeah, ah, ah," Evan stumbled. "That's… that's just a stupid assignment, you can just -"

"Because there's Zoe."

There was a certain nasty churning in Evan's chest. An emotion by the name of _fear_.

"Is this about my sister?"

"No, no." Damn sweaty palms again. Evan reached to grab the paper, but Connor pulled it away.

"You wrote this… because you knew that I would find it."

"What? No! I didn't even-"

"No, you saw that I was the only other one in the computer lab, so you printed this out so I could find it." Connor's voice was eerily calm.

"What… why would I even do that?!"

"So I could read some creepy shit that you wrote about my sister, and then freak out, right? So you can tell everyone, THAT I'M CRAZY!"

Connor stormed right out, the paper still in his hand.

"No, no wait!" Evan practically begged, chasing after him. "I need that back, can you please just give that back?"

* * *

_Later that day._

"A letter to _yourself_? What is it, some kinda sex thing?"

"Ok, Jared, enough with the joking around. This isn't funny, this isn't good, this isn't-"

"And why are you telling _me _this?"

"Because you're my only… family… friend, alright? Just please, don't tell anyone -"

"Ey! Jeremy, Michael! Get in here!"

"What on earth?"

"We were playing some video games, man."

"Evan? What's this all about?" Jeremey's hesitant voice asked.

"His sex letter got stolen by Connor Murphy," Jared explained, nearly on the verge of total laughter.

"Have you tried drinking a slushie? Take your mind off it? There's a 7-11 right off of campus," Michael suggested hopefully.

"That's… that's not going to help," Evan said worriedly, rubbing his temples. "Like… what's he going to do with it? It's been three days."

"Dude. He's going to ruin your _life _with it."

Evan placed his head in his hands. Deep shit. He was in some _deep _shit.

* * *

**Oh. You came here for a Hamilton fanfiction, and here I am, spewing on and on and on and on about Dear Evan Hansen. **

**I'm sorry. Here, next chapter will be _all about _HammyHam. I promise. Alright? Just stick around with me.**

**Since you're reading Hamilton fanfiction and are most likely a Hamilton fan, and therefore have most likely read many of the other fics in this section, but I'd still like to take a moment to highlight some other fictions here that are worth you time. **

**First, "The Hamiltons Go To Camp Half-Blood", by weirdtheaterchild. Believe it or not, it's not just a lame AU where they go to Camp Half-Blood. Nor does the OC that it features the same tired Mary Sue that she usually is. It's actually original. And good. So you should read it.**

**Second, I'd like to mentioned "(They All Know) What You Did Last Summer" by AvatarNia. My God. This fic is Beautiful, and that is Beautiful with a capital B, and yes, that's a Heather reference, just like how it drops a Heather reference. Besides that, the prose is excellent, and the plotline is constantly exciting. It's a High School AU with all your returning favorites, as well as a bunch of other characters who aren't ordinarily seen, well-developed and wonderfully done.**

**Finally, I'd like to mention "The Plot Against Hamilton", by AlexanderHamHam1804. I mean, hey. I endorsed the usage of my own good name in it. It'd be criminal if I didn't support it. Personal stakes aside, it's shaping up to be quite the impressive crossover. Since you're reading this, you clearly enjoy crossovers between musicals, and therefore you might also be interested in another musical crossover. **

**And that's all for now! Congratulations on getting through these exhaustively long Author's notes. I wish you all the best. Stay safe, stay healthy, and until next time, Readers!**


	7. Chapter 7: The Sky's the Limit

**Ms. Ivy: In some fictional universe, you and I are good friends. However, this is reality, so I'll now try to do justice to the masterpiece that is Dear Evan Hansen. **

**Essentially, we have our main character, an awkward and somewhat angsty teenager in high school who wears blue. Our morally ambiguous protagonist somehow manages to reach sky-high popularity in a very unusual and unorthodox way, leaving behind their best friend in the process. **

**Oh, wait. I just described Heathers, didn't I? Or, I guess it applies to Be More Chill as well. Hm. **

**Really, it's good, though. You should just see it for yourself if you haven't already, or at least listen to the soundtrack. I have the bootleg, if you really want it. **

**Mr. Assassin: I'm glad that you agree with my assessment. Thanks for your continued support of this fiction!**

**Without further ado, let's begin.**

* * *

Chapter 7: The Sky's the Limit

The chemistry room looked - well, exactly like the chemistry room. Any chemistry room in any college that you might find across the country. Which isn't necessarily any different from your average lecture hall, when you consider that the class was simply the basic version rather than anything special. A ton of rows of seats, all oriented towards the center, where an aging professor was shuffling with notes and mumbling. The one thing that differentiated it from the English or History class was the giant periodic table hanging off to the side.

Of course, Alex didn't notice any of these details at all, because his attention was all focused on the girl in front of him.

_Why are my palms so sweaty, so suddenly? _he questioned to himself.

Still, though. This was his chance. His shot. Who was he if he didn't say anything?

Hercules and Aaron looked at each other for a moment, then looked back at Alex marching forwards, and mutually resolved to stay silent and watch things play out.

"Erm. Um. Eliza?"

She spun around in her seat to look at him. She was even prettier up close. Alex just felt like swimming in her dark eyes.

"Excuse me. Do I know you?"

Man, that was a nice voice. He could practically feel the warmth and kindness being exuded from it, despite her seemingly not putting any effort into trying to do so.

"Hello?"

Alex shook his head and snapped back to reality. "I'm Alex, and I… I really like you. I love you. I want to -"

He swallowed. Why now was his ability to command words failing?

"Excuse me."

Angelica stepped in. "Get out of here. That's my seat you're taking up."

Alex slipped on his classic, confident smile and scooted one seat to the side. "There you go."

"That's my seat as well," Angelica responded.

Alex blinked. He usually wasn't one to just listen to what other people said he should do, but for some reason, he slid over another seat.

"That's mine, too."

"How many seats belong to you?" Alex asked.

"All the ones in this entire row, along with the ones in a ten-foot radius from where I'm standing."

He still didn't know what was coming over him, but Angelica's words practically felt like a physical force hitting him. He left the row and prepared to walk down and take a seat in the front row.

As he turned his back, he felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders and spin him around.

"Listen. My sister's already gotten her heart broken once." There was a look in Angelica's eye. It was identical to the one he saw in the mirror every day. "Stay away from her, if you know what's good for you."

Alex nodded meekly, then continued his lonely walk of shame, plopped down in a seat a dozen rows away from the object of his attraction, and began to pout.

Hercules and Aaron settled in right next to him not a moment later.

"What? Are you here to just make fun of me, because if you are-"

Alex was cut off by the massive, gut-clenching laughs Hercules was letting loose. Even Aaron was giving off a genuine smile, which was a pretty rare sight, Alex was realizing.

"Shut up," he grumbled, looking away from them to grab a notebook out of his backpack.

"We ain't makin' fun of you! It's just way too funny to _not_ laugh," Hercules said, wiping his eyes.

"He does have a point," Aaron pointed out.

Alex just buried his face in his hands and resolved to wait it out.

* * *

_Later that day…_

"So, thoughts on your first day, Alex?"

The entire set of them - Alex, John, Laf, and Hercules had all returned to Sam Adams, and were undergoing their rituals of downing large amounts of alcoholic beverages together.

"Already got his heart broken," Hercules interjected, laughing. It wasn't drunk laughing. It was just laughing.

"Nothing but my pride is harmed," he bitterly replied, swallowing another shot.

"Mon ami, do you need ze education on how to attract? To seduce? To love?" Laf asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Hey, this is a healthy experience. Being rebuffed is hard, but you learn from it. You get stronger."

Alex gave his best friend a small grin. "Alright. Thanks, John."

And so, the four of them continued to get drunk and enjoy themselves.

This was alright, Alex thought to himself. These were his friends. Things could be all right, this way.

* * *

Outside, Aaron looked in on them. Enjoying themselves.

He huffed a little, the small amount of air expelled visible for an instant in front of him before disappearing. Were they his friends? Yes. Maybe. Sometimes, when it helped him. Other times, like these? Not so much.

He looked down at his watch. 11:52.

Shoot. He'd gotten himself so wrapped up in his mental state that he forgot he had an important meeting to attend.

Aaron tightened his jacket around him, took one last, fleeting look, and set off across campus at a brisk pace.

* * *

The most southern library on campus did not have an official name, unlike the other libraries on campus. This was due to the fact that it had only recently been constructed, only two years ago. For now, everyone just called it, "The Southern Library".

As such, not many people really used it, especially late at night. The only people who were there were a few student volunteers, reshelving books and dusting various surfaces.

And, of course, one Thomas Jefferson, who, despite the late hour, was still wearing an incredibly flamboyant and bright outfit. He sat in the most plush chair in the entire building, tapping two fingers against his leg and looking as though he absolutely didn't have a care in the world.

As the clock hit midnight, Heather Chandler walked in, flanked by her two subordinates, matching Thomas' gaze.

"You know that phones exist, right?" he asked aloud. "You could have just, I dunno, called me, instead of having this overblown drama in the middle of the night."

"I thought that this discussion might require some… face-to-face interaction." She stared directly at Thomas. Despite her being a year younger, she was just as tall as him while she was wearing heels.

"Well, then. Talk away."

"First of all, where is that boyfriend of yours, anyway?"

Thomas' face reddened only the slightest shade, but Heather saw it. She grinned, as though she had found some prey that would make a nice meal.

The boy clicked his fingers together, and James stepped out of the shadows, calmly taking the seat next to Thomas. The three Heathers took the couch opposite of them.

"You know, why don't you two just kiss already?" Duke butted in. "Everyone knows that y-"

"Shut up, Heather!"

"Sorry, Heather."

It was Thomas' turn to grin like a shark and look delighted.

"We came to talk about the arrangement," McNamara said sweetly.

"We're cutting it off. We're collectively done with associating with you," Chandler said with a note of confident finality.

Thomas leaned forward.

"When you came here, I practically raised you from nothing. You three were wide-eyed, confusing ducklings I took under my wing. You think that you can just break away from me?"

"We're not blind," came Chandler's retort. "Your influence has been decreasing. Maybe you could pull a string or two back when we were still at Westerberg, but now, you can't even defend yourself on your own home turf. Hamilton? Does that name sound familiar? We don't want to work with people who can't even beat a 'son of a whore', like you said yourself."

Thomas flinched. Actually flinched. "What, so you're helping _him _now?"

"We're helping ourselves," McNamara said simply.

The big, bushy-haired kid seemed to be lost for words for a moment before bursting out into laughter that lasted for a solid ten seconds.

The three young women stared at him until he silenced himself.

"Cute. But you know what? I have a secret weapon." he said finally.

"Show me." Chandler said.

Somebody coughed, and the three Heathers turned to see the face of Aaron Burr looking down at them.

"The son of the Dean himself," Thomas said. "How ya like that?"

"Is this a joke?" In imitation of Thomas, Chandler began to laugh hysterically. "Each of the three of us is more powerful than the Dean! Who even knows the Dean? No one sees him around."

"I think you might find yourself biting your words before long," Thomas replied.

"Come on, girls. We're done here."

Still laughing, Chandler strutted out of the building, and Duke and McNamara followed, the girl in yellow giving a bright smile back for some reason before shutting the door behind her.

* * *

The instant she turned and left, Thomas slumped in his chair and ran a hand through his mass of hair.

"This is bad." he admitted. "This is pretty bad."

* * *

The instant all three of them had left the Southern Library, Chandler started speaking.

"They got Aaron."

"You sound concerned," Duke mentioned.

Chandler didn't tell her to shut up, a sure sign that things were being thrown out of whack.

"This is bad. This is pretty bad. Do we have any secret weapons we can use?"

"We'll work on it. Together," McNamara said.

Chandler sighed. 'Working together'. A vague, silly, childish idea, but it'd have to do.


	8. Chapter 8: Falling in a Forest

**A/N: So apparently, there's this thing called Trigger Warnings that I need to put at the beginning of chapters, just as a warning as to what it contains. **

**Has anybody ever been deterred by a TW, though? Just wondering. I don't mean to be insensitive, I'm just asking. **

**Anyways, if you're not familiar with the story of Dear Evan Hansen, Trigger Warning: Somebody is dead.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Falling in a Forest

"Mr. Hansen." Washington's voice rang out loud and clear across the room before class had even begun. "Come here."

The boy in question nervously walked forward. "Yes?"

The man frowned, and gave him a slip. "Head down to the Dean's office. Immediately."

Evan's stomach felt like it was sinking. "Do you have any idea what this might be for, professor?"

The older man's brow wrinkled. "I really don't. I'm sure it can't be anything too serious, though. You're a good kid. They probably want you to give some info on something you saw. It happens."

Evan nodded, and began to walk out of the lecture hall at the exact same pace he had entered it. He made eye contact with Alex for one moment, who shot him a worried glance, before opening the door and stepping through.

* * *

The public school that Evan had been to previously was quite large, and King's College was a comparatively small college. Even still, it was much, much bigger than his high school. This left him plenty of time to reflect on exactly how much trouble he might be in as he walked down the various roads, sidewalks, trails, and pathways.

_Is it about Connor? It's most definitely about Connor, _he decided. _But what'd he do? Am I getting called in here to be notified of my new restraining order? What could possibly be so important that the Dean wants me? Oh God, how many people did he show it to?_

The sun shone down, the temperature was that pleasant sort of perfect that comes during early fall, and the air was crisp and clean, yet to Evan, the mood was awful. Everything seemed off, wrong, as though objects had all gotten up and moved themselves a foot before setting back down.

Eventually, after many minutes, Evan reached the admissions building, which was also where the Dean's office just so happened to be. He walked in, took a left, then a right, then a straight, then another left, and then two rights, and at last, he was there.

_Well. Might as well get whatever the hell this is over with. _

With that thought driving him forward, he opened the door to the office.

Inside, oddly enough, was not the Dean. Instead, there were two middle-aged white people, one man and one woman. They were both looking incredibly distraught, holding each other's hands and staring into one another.

"Um. Hello?" Evan asked. It felt very wrong to be in there, like he was witnessing something private, and he was the intruder.

The two of them broke their gazes and looked at him, only now aware that he was in the room.

"Oh… Evan, right?" the woman asked softly.

"Um… yes. That's me."

"I'm Cynthia," she said, extending her hand, which Evan shook somewhat limply.

"Larry," the man said, somewhat gruffly. He didn't extend any hand.

"Um… where's the Dean?"

"We asked the Dean to leave. It's just us here," Cynthia explained. "Here… sit down. Please."

Evan compiled, growing more nervous by the second.

"We're… Connor's parents," Larry stated. After saying these words, it was clear that he wasn't a gruff person. He was a terribly conflicted person attempting to put on a front of gruffness.

"And we think that he wanted you to have this," Cymthia said. She took a single sheet of paper out of her designer purse and handed it to Evan. It didn't take him more than a second to recognize it as his own letter to himself.

"It was so unprecedented," Larry cut in as Evan looked at it. "We'd never heard your name before. Connor… never mentioned your name before. And then we saw this. Dear Evan Hansen. That's your name, right?"

"Connor… gave this to you?" _Why would he do that? What's he trying to do here?_

"We didn't know you were his friend."

"Friends?"

"We didn't think Connor had any friends at all. But this letter, it shows that you and Connor… or at least, Connor thought you were his friend. It says so right there, your name. It's addressed to you, he wrote it to you."

"You think that… you think that Connor wrote this to me? This is him talking to me?" Ok, clearly, there was some sort of miscommunication going on here.

"These are his last words. This is what he wanted to share with you," Cynthia said, and it from the tear forming in her eye, things suddenly became horrifyingly clear.

"What do you mean… last words?" Evan asked. His voice was shaking. He felt it shaking.

Larry looked down at his finely polished shoes, then back up to Evan.

"Connor… took his own life yesterday,"

There was nothing Evan could say. What was there that could even be said? What words can fill the void of death?

"We found this in his pocket. It's clearly… him trying to explain himself." Larry marched on with his explanation, trying to fill that void. Next to him, his wife began to truly cry. "'I wish that I was a part of something, I wish that anything I said mattered…'"

"Would you stop it!" she said at last.

"No, no. Connor… he didn't write this. He didn't write this!" Evan exclaimed.

"What's he saying? It doesn't make any sense," Cynthia tearfully asked, turning to Larry.

"Ok, look, he's clearly in shock over it. We need to just…"

"No, he didn't write it, ok? Can I please go now, can I please just go now?"

"Cynthia, please. Just leave him alone, give him some time to…"

"This! This is the only thing we have left of him!" she nearly screamed.

"Here!" Evan said. He just wanted out of here. It felt like the walls were closing in, and he was sweating. He was sweating in an air-conditioned office. "Take it! Just take it! Here!" He used his good hand to thrust the piece of paper towards the grieving woman.

She took it, and it seemed to calm her. That, at least, was a relief.

"Look. Larry. His cast."

He turned, and the two Murphy parents both looked at the large signature of their dead son's name on the cast.

"His best and most dearest friend."

_Shit._


	9. Chapter 9: Someone Less Astute

Chapter 9: Someone Less Astute

Everyone in Washington's class was essentially still high-schoolers in mindset. Although there were no "oohs", every eye followed Evan as he left the classroom.

And when he left, everybody snapped away and turned their attention back to their teacher.

"Today, you will be doing this assignment in pairs," Washington said, grabbing a large stack of sheets. "It's a simple, rather short project that shouldn't take you more than a couple weeks. It's really just assigned by the curriculum, in order to foster 'team building' and rapport."

Nobody was listening. As any savvy person in the education system knows, the best way for a teacher to take attention off of what they're saying is to announce that an assignment is being done in pairs. Already, everyone was eyeing prospective partners.

"I will be the one assigning your partners," Washington said, eliciting a series of groans.

"Angelica and Eliza." The two sisters grinned at each other, a mischievous gleam in both pairs of eyes.

"Alex and Thomas."

This was certainly a bad decision. Both boys started screaming at Washington, arguing and cajoling and pleading for a change of partners.

The professor held up a single hand, seemingly giving a death glare to both of them at once, and they shut up.

"Heather and Heather."

The three Heathers looked at Washington in confusion.

He looked up. "Oh. You," He pointed at Chandler. "With you," as he pointed to Duke.

The two of them looked at each other with mutual wrinkled expressions of distaste.

"The other Heather is with Aaron,"

"Other Heather?" McNamara asked.

"Moving on. Jared, you're with Evan when he gets back."

The bespeckled boy rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Alana's with Zoe. Michael and Christine. John, you're with Lafayette."

"Pardonnez-moi, professur," interrupted the Frenchie. "But there is soi… se… seventy or so of us students in this room. How long will this pairing take?"

"Excellent question, Mr. Lafayette. I was waiting for someone to ask that." Washington grinned.

"College isn't like high school. You won't be rewarded for just following the lead. Anyone can do that. At least in this classroom, those who can think freely and question things that don't make sense will succeed, just like in the real world."

"But anyways, here's the pairings."

Washington went over to his desk, clicked his mouse a few times, and a giant list of names appeared on the smartboard in front of the room.

"Have at it!"

* * *

"So. You're the yellow Heather," Aaron said carefully, upon getting face-to-face with his new partner.

"Excuse me, but I do have a name."

"Yes. Heather."

This was apparently so funny to Heather McNamara that she started giggling to herself before settling down.

"You're not really one of them, are you? Tom, James, they're not really your buddies, are they?"

Aaron stiffened a little, and looked at the two of them in question. Thomas and Alex were already yelling at each other, with Washington between them. James was way up back in one of the highest rows, speaking quietly with Hercules.

"Wasn't he not here before? Hercules?" Aaron questioned, deftly attempting to switch the subject.

"He transferred here. Wanted to be with his friends. Somehow got it cleared," McNamara said. "But why are you working with them if you don't like them?"

The way she said it. So sure of herself. So confident.

"I do 'like' them, contrary to what you're saying," Aaron said. "I wouldn't work with people I didn't like. With them, we're all going places."

"But you. You're not really friends with those people who share your name, are you? I'm willing to bet you don't really like them at all."

McNamara looked a little shocked. "Of course I like them! Do you even know how long I've known them?"

"Do you even know how long I've known my friends?" Aaron replied.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Heather finally said. She leaned in a bit, and dropped her voice to a whisper, kind of like how she'd seen it done in the movies. "We're on opposite sides. We're enemies. Understand?"

Aaron maintained a stoic impression. "Understood. Now, how about we get to work on this?"

* * *

Across the way, things were not going well with Alex and Thomas. A decent-sized crowd had formed around the spectacle that the two of them were creating.

"And if you weren't such a dumbass, maybe you'd be able to see that I'm RIGHT in this situation!" Thomas shouted.

"I'M the dumbass? Why don't you take your stupid face and shove it right up my-"

At this moment, Washington once again stepped in between them and forcibly shoved them apart. Even still, they both fought against him, trying to get at each other.

"That is ENOUGH!" He actually shouted on that last word, and that was more than enough to make the two of them fall silent.

"Are you two going to work together, now?"

The two of them meekly nodded their heads before returning to their work.

Jared, meanwhile, had literally fallen asleep in his chair. His two limp hands were still grasping his phone, where he was evidently playing a game of some sort. Absolutely nobody paid any mind to this at all.

Towards the top of the room, what had once been a quiet, civil conversation between Hercules and Madison had turned into a very one-sided shouting match.

"How hard is it?" Hercules bellowed. "Nobody else gets sick! Why do you keep on getting sick?"

Maidson responded with a loud, hacking cough, nearly sounding as though he was choking as he reached for his bag and pulled out a tissue box.

It took Angelica and Eliza together to get Hercules to calm down, somehow, with a lot of pats on the back and calm requests to quiet down.

Content that most things were going okay, at least for a little while, Washington went back to his desk and sighed, rubbing his temples. It felt like this was going to be a very long year.

* * *

**Hello, readers! It's time for another plug-in in the author's notes at the end.**

**Have you read "Where Paths Cross"? That right there? **_That's _**a crossover, a collaboration between several Hamilton fanfiction authors, including yours truly. It's really worth the read. Go on now, go over there and read it. **

**Thanks for stopping by, and until next time...**


	10. Chapter 10: Talk, and Take in the View

**iamhoussem17 : I am glad to hear that you've enjoying this. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep providing for you.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Talk, and Take in the View

"Holy shit."

"Ok, Jared, that's not very helpful. Like, they… they think I'm his friend! His best friend!"

"Ho-ly shit."

"Ok. Just don't tell anybody. Just, you're the only person I can talk to about this, alright? You can't…"

"Ey! Jeremy! Michael! Get in here!" Jared shouted?

"Hm? What is it?" Their two voices joined into the call.

"You brought _them_? Really?"

"We were playing some video games, alright? They're literally right there. They would have heard anyway."

"Evan? What's this about?" Jeremy asked hesitantly.

"Connor's parents think he's their son's boyfriend," Jared interrupted before Evan could say anything. "This is great. Who else can I get on here? Alana!"

A new person joined the call, or what actually seemed to be multiple people, judging from overlapping giggling.

"No! How many people are you going to bring here?" Evan complained.

"Don't worry, I'll stop here if it really gets you so stressed," Jared reassured. "Alana? Who are you with?"

"My name's Catherine," a voice with a delightful British accent said.

"I'm also Katherine," a different voice said.

"Well, how do we tell the two of you apart?" Michael questioned.

"You just do," Alana said. "They're _completely _different people, let me tell you."

"Ok! Ok! Great!" Evan said, hurrying along. "That's great. But Jared, what do I do?"

"Here's what you do. When you head over to their house, just nod at everything they're saying. Just agree with them. Don't say a word," Jared instructed. "Just let them grasp at whatever they want. They're distraught. Help them through it."

"Shouldn't he tell them the truth?" Alana asked. "It might save a lot of trouble."

"Their _son _has died!" Jared said. Despite the sheer morbidity of the situation, you could still practically hear him grinning for some reason. "Evan is their last hope! If he tells them that he didn't even know Connor, what are they supposed to do?"

"I mean, Jared does have a point," Jeremy said.

"But Alana does, to," Catherine replied firmly. "Honesty is always the best policy."

"Well, Evan. Looks like you actually have to make a choice," Jared said. "Try not to mess this up."

"Wait!" Evan called out desperately. "I still don't know what to do? What if I need to-"

The call abruptly ended.

* * *

With heavy shoulders, Evan grabbed his coat and prepared to leave his dorm. He'd be having dinner with the Murphys tonight, and he still didn't have a clue what he was going to do.

He was looking down at the ground and so busy in his thoughts that he nearly ran into Alex coming into the room.

"Hey, Evan! First weekend of the semester, right? Are you heading out somewhere?" Alex asked cheerfully.

"No. I… I…"

Evan broke down and spilled the entire story to Alex, right there outside their dorm room. Alex listened, staring intensely.

"Evan." Alex grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. "You have to do what you think is right,"

"But I don't know what's right!" Evan nearly shouted.

"You'll know what to do when you get there. I'm sure of it."

"A...alright. Alright, Alex."

With a growing pit of dread settling his stomach, Evan left his friend behind and prepared for yet another march across campus.

* * *

Once again, everything around him was beautiful. It had just become evening, and there were all sorts of social groups hanging around, talking and laughing, doing homework, eating in restaurants, and just enjoying college life.

Once again, Evan found himself walking alone, watching everything pass by.

This lasted for all the time that it took to cross campus once again, until he found himself walking out the front gates of campus.

There, standing on the sidewalk, was the very familiar figure of a very familiar girl.

His palms were sweaty. They were so damn sweaty. He felt as though he wanted to bolt out of his own skin. His entire being was practically screaming to get him out of here, out of this situation, out of this _life_.

Evan took several leaden steps forward until he was standing next to her. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He was quite afraid that he just might throw up or something right now.

She turned. "Oh. It's you."

"You- you know who I am already?"

"You're all my parents can talk about," Zoe said, turning away again.

"Oh...oh…" Not knowing what to say, Evan shut his mouth.

Eventually, after what was probably a much shorter time than it felt, a black car pulled up to the side of the road. The passenger-side window rolled down.

"Hop in, kids." Cynthia said wearily.

"Not a kid anymore," Zoe replied nearly instantly.

Her mother did not say anything as the young girl opened the door and stepped inside.

"Evan?"

He sighed. There really wasn't any other choice than to get in, was there?

Resigned to his inescapable fate, Evan entered the car as well, shutting the door behind him.

The engine revved, and they drove off, away from King's.

**Hello, all you people out there reading this. I'm sorry that this story had went on a rather long break. I also apologize for the rather shorter length and lower quality of this chapter compared to the previous ones. Fortunately, school for me ends in less than two weeks, at which point I should be able to resume writing normally. **

**Some pretty dark times have just gotten darker recently. 2020 has just not been a good year so far. Stay as safe as you can. **

**Happy pride month. Until next time, readers.**


	11. Chapter 11: Fear and Lust and Pride

**ivy and C.A. - I don't have a freaking clue how the Queens ended up here. We should probably ask the author. **

**Aw, crap. **

**But anyways, I thought it'd be fun. That's it.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Fear and Lust and Pride

"Where's Laf?" Alex asked.

Only three of the merry group of four had gathered that Wednesday evening in Sam Adams to drink their sorrows away. The mood of the place felt entirely different without the lovable Frenchman present.

"He's busy doing his work. For his French class!" Hercules responded.

"He's French, but he's taking a French class?"

"It _is _an advanced French class," John added. "The most advanced French class at King's, I believe. And he's taking it as a freshman."

Alex drained his shot. "Well, whatever he wants to do, I guess. Now, imagine if he majored in French. _That _would be funny."

John and Hercules were just drunk enough to believe that it was funny as well, and the three of them laughed together.

* * *

_We can be beautiful..._

"Veronica?"

"Gah! Oh. Hey, Martha!"

Martha pulled herself up next to Veronica. "Some apple cider, please?"

The bartender looked confusedly at her before going to a back room to get it.

"How's Kings?"

"It's been amazing!" Martha gushed. "The place is so big, there's so many people, everything's just wonderful."

The bartender slid a cup of the drink over, which Martha happily began to drink.

"Have you seen the gardens and the fields over on the west side? It's absolutely gorgeous." Her speech was temporarily interrupted by Alex, John, and Hercules' uproarious laughter.

"They've got two fountains over there. Two fountains! I've never even seen two fountains so close to each other before."

Veronica grinned and listened to her best friend go on and on about the aspects of the campus that she liked. Being with her true best friend? This was more than fine.

* * *

Back over at the unnamed southern library, Lafayette shuffled through some books on a shelf, barely paying attention to them. France this, French that. He knew it all already.

This spying business - or at least, that's what it certainly felt like - was much more in Hercules' line of business than his own. Despite being absolutely enormous, the young man Laf had befriended had a natural talent at just fitting in and somehow being unseen.

That was not him. Lafayette always stood out. It's what he was born to do.

_But perhaps that makes me the right man for the job,_ he mused. _No one would ever expect me to be a spy. _

"Oh, Thomas?" The very high-pitched voice of Heather Chandler snapped Lafayette out of it, and he busied himself with the task of looking busy once again.

"Yes, Heather. You can clearly see that I'm sitting right here," came the snarking reply.

A moment of silence.

"Anyways, Chandler. Do your betas have a clue?"

"Betas? Who says 'beta' in a normal conversation?"

"A guy I know," Thomas dismissed. "Now, answer the question."

Heather let out a laugh that rattled Lafayette's eardrums and probably didn't obey the sound regulations of the library.

"Of course not! They still think that you and I _hate _each other," she cackled.

Thomas also began to join in with aggravating laughter, the two of them creating a sound not unlike that of a couple of banshees.

"Ah, such pawns they are," Thomas said after he'd finally calmed down.

"But. Our power here isn't perfect, you know," Heather warned. "There's still people popular enough to challenge us."

"Yes, yes, I know. I have a list right here, as a matter of fact." Another pause. "Chloe, Catherine, Alana, Glinda…"

"THOSE are the people who you're worried about? Seriously? They're nothing!"

"You can never be too careful," Thomas said simply.

"Well, _I _know who we need to be careful around. And her name is R-"

"Hello, there."

Lafayette felt the eyebrows on the top of his head furrow. Who was that third voice? He'd certainly never heard it before. Whoever it was, they sounded really… sexy.

Thomas and Heather were clearly so stunned by this mystery person's appearance that they stayed silent.

"You both think that this is still high school. Neither of you have any idea how actual power here works." The voice speaking was clearly feminine, and it practically sounded like the mouth speaking it was dripping with venom. "You continue to play with your dolls. What idiots."

That, apparently, was the last straw.

"YOU! You, are the PG rated version of me!" Heather screamed. All the other students in the area looked at her fearfully, much too scared to ask her to quiet down. "You are nothing! You're a wad of dirt to be scraped off of my heel whenever I-"

"So one of my pupils in the art of popularity _has _actually tried to bring me down," Thomas mused. "I can't say that I'm surprised. You're so… predictable."

The tension in the room felt palpable. It practically felt like the temperature of the air was rising.

"You both are still high schoolers. Still fish out of the water," the third voice concluded, not heeding any of their words. "Even you, Thomas, despite your constant bragging about being a sophomore."

"Good evening to you both." And without another word, the distinctive sound of a pair of heels clacked out of the room.

Silence ensured as the doors to the library opened and closed.

"How very."

"Whaaatttttt?"


	12. Chapter 12: Light for Forever

Chapter 12: Light For Forever

"So, ah, what do you do, Evan?" Cythnia asked.

It had moved past his palms, now. He was sweating all over. And why did it feel like a huge lump of something had crammed itself down his throat?

"Uh, I… I write."

"Really? What do you write?"

_What an interesting question, _Evan thought to himself. _Has Mom ever questioned what I've been writing before? Not really. Does that make her a negligent parent? Or am I the one at fault here? Maybe I should just - _

"Essays."

"Oh. Ok."

"So you're a nerd," Zoe said, still staring out the window.

"Um… er…" Evan had absolutely no reply to that, and thus Cynthia's ill-advised attempt to lighten up the mood in the car failed.

* * *

Eventually, after an excruciating half hour of silence, the car finally pulled up to the Murphy home.

The driveway felt unreasonably long. Obviously, the driveway was very long, because the Murphy family was the rich folk who could afford to have a driveway longer than most, but also it felt somewhat short, because now he was going to be stuck inside of the house of a bunch of people that he really didn't want to talk to during which what was probably going to be the most uncomfortable meal of his life.

Of course, the driveway was an inanimate object that didn't really care about his opinion. Eventually, it ended. Everybody got out, and so Evan robotically followed suit.

Mr. Murphy - Larry, that was his name - was already seated at the table. Despite nonchalantly leaning back in his chair and looking at his phone, Evan could see the stress and the tenseness in him.

Evan settled down directly across from him, and busied himself with studying the bowl of apples on the table. My, was that a good-looking bowl of apples. Round, shiny, vivid. Every apple looked absolutely perfect. Yes, he would continue to admire these perfect, round, shiny apples. That was good.

Everybody else settled in, and looking at the highly uncomfortable expressions of the Murphy parents let Evan know that he was not alone in this horrible feeling of awkwardness.

"Anybody else want more chicken?" Larry's voice cut through the silence.

"I think you're the only one with an appetite," Cynthia replies.

With his wife's go-ahead, he lifted the piece of chicken onto his place and began to dig into it.

"It was very nice of the Harrisons to bring it over," Cynthia said, almost to herself. "Did Connor ever tell you about the Harrisons?"

Evan robotically bobbed his head up and down.

"They're very old friends of ours."

"Mmmmmmm." There. That wasn't techincally word, right? Just continuing with the confirming.

"Our families used to go out skiing together. We had terrific times on the slopes."

Before he could stop himself, Evan opened his mouth. "Connor loved skiing."

"Connor hated skiing," Zoe instantly replied.

Evan gulped, immediately regretting his decision to say anything.

"Er, right. He… he loved talking about how much he _hated _skiing. Just pure hate was the topic whenever he was talking about skiing."

Zoe's stare felt like it was burning into him.

"So you and Connor hung out a lot?" Cynthia asked.

"Pretty much."

Evan felt pretty proud of himself of that answer. There. He opened his mouth, and things didn't totally go to shit. It wasn't a "yes", per se. It could be interpreted as chosen. "A lot" could mean different things to different people.

"Where?" Zoe asked.

"You mean… where did we hang out?" he asked, stalling. _Think, think, think. _

"Yes. Where?"

"Well…" He coughed. Alright, here goes. "We'd mostly do the hanging out at my house. I mean, sometimes we hung out at his house, I mean, here, if there was nobody here."

Zoe's gaze seemed to grow in intensity as she opened her mouth again.

_Ready to out me on my BS. Quick, come up with something. Anything! _

"Er… email!" Evan declared. "We would email a lot, because sometimes, he didn't want to hang out in person."

"We _looked _through his emails. There aren't any from you."

"That's because… he had a different account. A secret account. Yeah. I probably should have said that before, that must have been very confusing, I'm sorry."

"Why was it secret?"

Evan decided that now was an excellent moment to take a large bite out of the rice on his plate. Just keep stalling, just keep stalling. That was the name of the game.

"It was secret because… he just thought it would be more private that way."

"I told you. He knew you looked through his emails," Cynthia said, turning to look at her husband.

"And I don't regret it." he replied.

"It's just weird." Zoe still isn't done. "The only time I ever saw you and my brother together at school was when he shoved you."

"Connor shoved you?" Cynthia's voice took on a tone of incredulity.

"I… wouldn't call it that. I tripped. That's what actually happened."

"I was there! I saw the whole thing." Zoe just absolutely was not stopping. "He pushed you. Hard."

"Oh! Right. That was… that was the misunderstanding. You see, I was trying to talk to him at school, which was exactly what he didn't want, right? It wasn't really a big deal, it was my fault."

"And why didn't he want to be talking to at school?"

"Because he thought I was kind of a… a…"

"A nerd?"

The words stung as though this was the first time she said them.

"Zoe!" Her father shoots her a look.

"A loser, I was going to say, but that works too."

"That's… a pretty bad thing to do," Cynthia admits.

"Well, Connor was a bad person, so that really isn't much of a surprise,"

"Connor was a complicated person," Cynthia says.

"No, he was a bad person, there's a difference."

The Murphy mother wiped her forehead with her napkin. "You refuse to remember any of the good things. Both of you!"

"Because there were no good things! What were the good things, Mom?"

"There were good things!"

"Yes, you keep saying that. What were they?"

This was awful. This was absolutely awful. At least divorced parents didn't argue over a dinner table.

"I remember a lot of good things about Connor!"

Three heads turned, and it took Evan a few seconds to register that it was he who said those words.

"Like what?" Zoe asked.

Evan looked at their faces. Expectant. Curious. Hopeful, somehow.

He fought the lump in his throat and the sweat now dripping down his entire body, opened his mouth, and spoke.

"Well, I remember this one day. Recently. Connor and I hung out, and it was a good day. I keep remembering that day. That one day."

That wasn't enough. That wasn't nearly enough.

Evan stared at those apples. Those beautiful, shining, perfect apples.

"Apples. We went to the apples… place."

"He took you to the orchard?" Cynthia's tone is surprised.

Using every ounce of self-control to not bolt from the table - where would he even go, after all? - he moved his head up and down.

"I thought that place closed," Larry said. "Years ago."

"Exactly! That's why we went there, there was privacy, there was no one else."

"I can't believe he took you there," Cynthia gushed. "That must have been fun. Some real fun."

"It was. It was." For once, Zoe wasn't snarking and asking questions left and right. Evan didn't need to continue. But he did.

"It around the end of spring, I think. Before either of us were in college, of course."

"What was that name of the ice cream place nearby that we loved?" Cynthia asks, almost gleeful.

"A la mode," Larry responds.

"That's exactly where we went! We'd get ice cream there."

"I'd completely forgotten about that place."

The relief. The state of near-euphoria that these people had put into, just hearing about how their son actually had a friend.

"We used to do that all the time. Just get up, and go somewhere. Talk. Like buddies, like friends. Connor was easy to talk to."

"I remember that one day, in the orchard." Evan really couldn't stop himself now. "We saw this tree. This absolutely enormous, incredibly tall oak tree, bigger than all the others. We ran over and we just started climbing it. We didn't think, we just went and did it."

All three Murphys stared intensely now, hanging on every word.

"We kept climbing, higher and higher, but then… then the branch I was holding gave way. I hit the ground. My arm went numb. And I was just there. Helpless. Waiting."

"And then I see him. I see Connor. He's come to get me. It's - it's going to be all right."

Evan finally stopped talking.

Cynthia got up from her seat, walked over to very-nearly trembling boy, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you, Evan. Thank you."


	13. Chapter 13: Gotta take the Upgrade

**22collinsi - Glad you're enjoying it. Hope the rest of the chapters have been satisfactory.**

* * *

Chapter 13: Gotta Take the Upgrade

"You know that his parents think you were lovers, right?"

No person could ever predict the things that Jared Klienman would focus on. Evan was severely regretting the decision to ask his "friend" for help.

"What? No, no, why would they think that?"

"Oh? Who's in love with who, now?" Michael's voice cut in.

"No, no, nobody's in love with anyone-"

"He wouldn't let you be seen with him on campus, and when he did, he kicked your ass. That's, like, the formula for secret gay lovers."

"Well, it's not like- well, I couldn't-"

"I told you to nod and confirm. That's it! Just nod, and confirm. And you somehow managed to mess that up. Congratulations."

"See. You should have just told them the truth." Ah, that was Alana. Always the pretentious one, always having the solution to every problem.

"What else did you manage to completely fuck up?" And that was Jared. As subtle as a brick through a window.

"Well, ah, I told them that we wrote emails… that Connor had a secret email account."

"Ah, of course! One of those 'secret email accounts'."

"That's not actually all that implausible," Jermey muttered.

"I don't have emails! What do I do, what do I do?"

"Maybe you should stop lying," Alana suggested unhelpfully.

"I can do emails," Jared offered.

"What? Really?"

"It's easy! You just set up an account, backdate the emails, there's -"

"Ah, we could turn it into a gathering. A lovely meeting between friends." What was her name, Catherine? Didn't she have anything better to do?

"You'd do that?" A bit too much hope creeped into Evan's voice.

"For two grand."

"Two thousand dollars?"

"Five hundred."

"I can give you twenty."

"Fine, but you're a dick."

"When? Where?"

"Next weekend. You know that tiny little computer lab off to the side of administration?"

Of course Evan knew what that place was. Connor took his letter there, for goodness' sake. He'd literally had nightmares in that place, when he decided one night to just not take his medication and see what happened.

"Yes."

"See you there."

Alex walked into the room, and Evan instinctively slammed his laptop shut. A knee-jerk reaction from the time when he was younger.

It turned out that this was really unnecessary, however, as his roommate was a) drunk to the point of incoherency, and b) not even looking at him.

"Bye, John. Bye-bye!" Alex giggled. Actually giggled, just like a little girl.

Evan didn't move a muscle as Alex barely stumbled his way into the room without tripping, clumsily shoved the door shut without locking it behind him, and turned to look at him.

Something changed, because Alex's posture straightened and his eyes suddenly looked a lot more sharp.

"Evan. You look like you've seen a ghost."

All the boy could do is just shake his head.

"Oh, no. The Murphys. You just went there. How… I shouldn't bother asking how it went."

"Hell."

"What?"

"I think I've seen a glimpse of hell now."

The Southern Library was just proving to be a favorite hangout for Thomas Jefferson in the dead of night, it seemed. He lounged about on the same couch, wearing yet another ridiculously fancy fuschia outfit, fiddling with something in his pocket.

The double doors opened, and in walked a short, stooped, wimpy looking person, with a frown on his face and a terrible sense of defeat in his eyes, which didn't even seem to have the energy to look upwards and meet anybody else's.

"Ah. Richard. Rich. Richy. What was your last name, again?" Thomas said loudly.

"Goranski," Rich mumbled.

"I actually don't care," Thomas admitted.

Rich couldn't even muster a reply to this insult.

"I heard that you were quite the popular kid back in high school. How have your strategies worked when you transferred over to higher education? How's the college life treating you?"

"You know exactly what this hellhole is doing to me, otherwise we wouldn't be here," Rich nearly spat.

"Actually, I'd still probably be here," Thomas replied.

"Give it. Give it to me," Rich demanded.

Out of one of his many coat pockets, Thomas pulled out a small little capsule. Inside was a shiny grey pill. It didn't look like anything special to the untrained eye, but Rich stood up straight and looked at it eagerly.

He extended a hand to grab it, only to pause while it was inches away and retreat.

"So. You're sure that this thing will work?"

"Absolutely! I've taken one myself, and look at where it got me." Thomas spread his arms wide in one of those grand, theatrical motions that he enjoyed, showing off the whole library as if he owned it. "This place is probably going to get named after me before long. If those bureaucrats ever get around to doing such an important task, of course."

"And exactly how much is this going to cost me? Every time that you've offered one, you never mentioned a price tag."

"We can discuss payment later," Thomas literally waved away. "Don't you want the upgrade _now_?"

"Yes…" Rich said uncharacteristically quietly.

"This world will be your oyster. What are you waiting for?"

Those words apparently did it for Rich. He snatched the capsule, nearly tore it off its hinges, grabbed the pill inside with two meaty fingers, and prepared to pop it in his mouth.

"You know, I wouldn't recommend doing it right here," Thomas offhandedly mentioned. "It can sometimes have some adverse side effects. Take it outside of a public place, like your dorm. With water."

Looking incredibly disappointed, Rich stuffed the pill back into the capsule, nearly crushed the entire case in his fist, and quickly walked out the door.

Thomas began to laugh that iconic laugh of his, disturbing the midnight silence of the library. Things were set in motion, now. He'd have his way before long. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

**Two chapters in a single week?! Well, I did say that I wanted to provide for you all. **


	14. Chapter 14: A Little Reinvention

Chapter 14: A Little Reinvention

"Are you entirely sure that doing this in the middle of a public place on college campus is such a good idea, Jared?"

"Relax, man! I'm using the most secure VPN that I know of. My parents pay good money for this shit."

"I'm just saying, literally anybody can walk in here and -"

"Hi, guys!" Alana happily walked into the room with such a spring in her step that she was practically skipping.

"You're here? Why are you here?"

"Because Catherine said that we were meeting here, of course!"

"What? No. I thought she was joking. I thought that-"

"Ah, hello, everybody. Thanks for inviting me." Catherine swept into the room, looking around and not really paying attention to anyone.

"No, there weren't any invitations, this isn't a-"

"Uh. What is this?" Alex's head peeked through the door on the opposite side of the room.

"Alex! Thank God you're here. Can you please tell everybody to-"

"Hey, Jeremy!" Jared called out. "Come on in! Join the freaking orgy."

Sure enough, Jeremy was there. He stepped around Alex and entered the room, albeit reluctantly. "I didn't come here to have sex with anyone."

"Ok, can we just get started? Jared? Please?"

"Fine, have it your way." At long last, Jared turned to the screen and started typing.

"Yo, Evan. Sorry that it's been a minute. I've been all crazy and shit."

"What? No!" Upon realizing that he was shouting pretty loudly, Evan decreased his volume by a decibel. "Why are you making him talk like that?"

"Like what?" Jared responds innocently.

"Just… like that! You don't need to do that. Make him talk normally."

"Here." Catherine pushes Jared out of the way, settles down in front of it, and goes to work herself.

"Dearest Mr. Hansen. It's my greatest disappointment that I've been unable to maintain contact. My own daily existence has been most challenging of late."

"What is that, now? He sounds like he's a prince or something."

"How'd you guess that that's how the prince speaks?" Catherine questioned.

"No, just - here, Jared." Evan got up and forcibly wheeled Jared's chair back in front of the computer. His friend simply sat there with a stupid grin on his face as he was slid about. "Just make him talk like we do."

"Okay then."

"And have the letter start with 'Dear Evan Hansen'."

"And now why are you referring to each other by your full names?"

"Just- just do it, OK?"

"Dear Evan Hansen. Sorry I've been out of touch. Things have been crazy."

"Perfect, perfect!"

"I want you to know that you've been on my mind all the time. I rub my -"

"What?"

Jared takes a look at everyone assembled in the room, then cracks a grin and continues.

"I rub my nipples every night as I picture your sweet, sweet face."

"WHY would you write -"

Evan's complaints were drowned out by the sound of some surprisingly deep laughter.

Everyone swung around to see Veronica absolutely laughing her head off, pointing at the screen with one hand and clutching her gut with the other.

Seeing this, the five of the other six people in the room joined in the laughter with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Great. Another person. Just great," Evan mumbled to himself.

"Alright, alright. If it's got you so stressed out, we can change it." Jared backspaces on the computer.

"I've got to tell you, life's been hard," Evan dictates.

"_Hard_?"

"Fine. Change it to 'rough'."

"Kinky!"

"Just let me type it."

"Life without you has been pretty difficult. I miss talking about life, and other stuff."

"That's very specific."

"Shut up, Jared."

"I like my parents."

"Here." Acting completely exasperated, Jared shoves Evan out of the way and takes his place back in front of the computer. "Just let me do it."

"I should really take your advice and stop smoking pot. Then everything might be ok. And I'll try to be nicer."

"That's… actually not bad," Evan admits. "Now, sign it at the bottom. 'Sincerely, Me'."

"Not even gonna ask. Are we done yet?"

"Well, you know, I can't just give them one letter. I gotta show that I was, like, a good friend, you know?"

"Oh, God."

* * *

Fortunately, after all the mishaps of the first letter, the rest was fairly smooth sailing. "Dear Evan Hansen, thanks for always being there for me." "Dear Connor Murphy, that's what a friend is for." By the time it was over, Evan had a half-dozen emails in his hand.

"Alright, time to drop these off at the Murphy's. Jared, can you…"

"What? Now you need a _ride, _too? Are you kidding me? Don't you have your own car?"

"Er, well…" Evan did have his license, but never his own car. It wasn't like the family could afford it, anyway, and it wasn't like he needed it at any point. Besides, after everything that a driver's ed class does to drill how dangerous of a place the road could be, he never wanted to head out there ever again.

"Can anybody else give me a lift?" He looked around the room. Alana and Catherine had left ages ago.

"I don't own a motorbike," Veronica admitted.

Alex just shrugged.

"I can help you out," Jermey said.

"Ah. Thanks… thanks a lot, dude."

"No problem."

"Well, I've wasted enough time here." Man, Jared could be a pest sometimes, even while he was being helpful. "Have fun at your tea party. I'm leaving to do something that I actually enjoy."

"See you," Evan mumbled. Jared didn't reply as he very nearly skipped out the door.

"You guys mind if I tag along?" Alex asks. "I've got nothing else to do."

"Sure."

"Yeah."

"Hey, can I come too?" Veronica piped in. "I've got some cash. We'll pick up some slushies."

"Slushies…" Jeremy mumbled to himself.

* * *

And so it would be, that the four of them would end up sitting together in Jeremy's car, heading down a road as the sun set on a Saturday, drinking Slushies with enough sugar to probably kill an ordinary person. Four people, inextricably brought together and linked by fate itself.

For once, Evan thought, the silence that was present wasn't horrible. It wasn't a great amount of pressure, and it didn't feel awful and invasive.

It felt nice. Things were ok once again.

Until Evan remembered that he was outright lying to the Murphy's at this point and that none of the people were really his friends, because how could they be? They barely knew him and he barely knew them.

"Gah! This thing's cold," Alex complained.

"Press the tongue to the roof of your mouth. That'll stop any brain freezes," Jeremy recommended.

The Murphy's house appeared in view, just as titanic as it was on Evan's previous visit. Somehow, in the darkness of the night, it felt a lot more… judgmental. That was the word. It was as though the structure was alive, watching him and evaluating his decisions.

_And you're found wanting. _

Evan nearly wrenched the car door off its hinges, darted forward, fumbled around with the mailbox before shoving the papers inside, and hurried back to the car at top speed.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," commented Alex as Evan slid in next to him, madly wiping his wet palms on his pants.

"Yeah. Mine."

"Hey." Alex awkwardly patted his friend on the arm. "It's alright. Breathe, man."

Evan inhaled deeply, a now-familiar sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach as Jeremy drove away.

**Hello, dear reader. It's me, the author. If anyone's still reading this, I apologize for the infrequent updating. Life for me really has been crazy as of late. It's a toss-up to see if I can make the time to keep providing for you guys. **

**I have the honor to be your obedient servant, **

**HTP. **


	15. Chapter 15: This One's Mine

**Two chapters in as many days. Well, I do owe it to you readers. Screw that hitthepin guy for saying that I upload slowly.**

**Enjoy. **

* * *

Chapter 15: This One's Mine

Alex sipped his coffee and typed at a school-issued laptop. It was the day after his adventure to the Murphys with Evan, making it Sunday. The day where everybody crams in the work assigned over the weekend that they should have been doing on Saturday.

He was at one of those quaint little shops you might find on any given college campus, serving you the stuff you need to keep your eyes open and your brain running. The sort of place where love often brews, both in reality and in those fanfiction pieces he sometimes likes to read.

_And that is why the cultural movement known as "romanticism" fell apart by the turn of the next century". _Alex hit enter and finished the first draft of his essay, stretching his fingers. They really do start to cramp up after you've been typing for too long.

For the first time in a while, he looked up and observed his surroundings. What was the name of this place, again? The Baker's shop? The Cook's? Something along those lines. Heck, _where _was this place? How'd he even get here? Where was his copy of the map of the campus? His mind really did go somewhere else when he worked.

"Hi."

Alex turns to the unfamiliar voice to see none other than Eliza Schyuler, standing there and smiling at him.

"Ah… hello."

"Mind if I sit here?"

Alex thanked his lucky stars. All the spots intended for one person to sit at were occupied, so he was forced to take one of those with two chairs. He'd thought it to be rude and improper, but now, it was nothing but convenient.

"Of course, of course."

She sat down and put her turquoise backpack next to his, still smiling in his direction.

"You're Alex, right?"

"Yeah. That's me…"

"I'm Eliza." She extended her hand.

_Focus. Head in the game, man. _"It's a real pleasure to meet you." He accepted the hand and shook it. She held it for slightly longer than expected before retreating.

"You sound like you came straight from the 1700s or something." Eliza laughed, and Alex laughed with her. She was right, wasn't she?

"So, ah, what causes you to grace me with your presence?" he replied, a grin appearing on his face as he kept up his pretense of formality.

At this, Eliza started smiling slightly less. She pursed her lips. Alex idly wondered what they felt like.

"I just wanted to apologize for my sister's behavior," she finally replied. "She can be a bit… intense sometimes."

"Yeah… Angelica, right?" Alex asked, as though he didn't really remember.

"Yes. Angie's just doing what she thinks is right. She'll grow on you, I promise."

Alex tilted his head a bit. "I don't want to sound like a jerk or anything, but she couldn't come to apologize herself?"

Eliza shook her head. "She's headstrong like that. A bit like you, I think."

Now this was a bit of a shock. "Like… me?"

"Well, yes. Like you." Eliza was smiling again. Alex felt his chest grow warm against his wishes. "Your friends, John, Laf, Herc. They're my friends, too. We went to the same high school upstate. You're all they talk about."

_She knows me. _Just that thought filled Alex with joy. And sufficiently distracted him so much that he couldn't form any words.

"Anyways… I do like you. At least, the you that I've heard about." She shot him a wink across the table. "I'd love to be your friend."

_What's she playing at? Is she being a flirt? Is she flirting with me? _"I'd love to be your friend, too," Alex replied, only barely able to keep his smile from expanding. "Could I have your number?"

"Of course!" Alex wanted to pinch himself, to see if he was in some fever-dream fantasy of some sort, but of course, he did not.

She recited it to him, and Alex sent the number a short text. Just a little "Hi." with a smiling face.

"Alright, looks like it's working!" Eliza cheerfully spoke.

"You're absolutely certain that Angelica won't murder me for this? After all, I am within ten feet of you right now."

Eliza laughed again. Alex found that he really loved it when she laughed.

"Don't worry. I'll keep you alive. I might even be able to make the two of you friends."

Alex gaped in exaggerated fashion. "Really?"

Eliza shrugged in return. "People say that I can work miracles." She stood.

"See you tomorrow, I guess. In history," Alex said as way of saying goodbye.

Eliza's eyes lit up, as though the thought delighted her as much as it delighted him.

"See you tomorrow, Alex." She walked out of the shop. Alex watched her go, still with the same goofy smile on his face.

"Well, if it isn't Alexander Hamilton."

Alex turned to see Aaron Burr, sliding himself into the seat that Eliza had just vacated.

"Looks like you've been making some forays, my friend." Aaron raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

"Aaron Burr, sir. Er, sir, when will it occur to you I don't have a chance with her?"

Aaron's eye twitched slightly at his rhymes. "I'm not a connoisseur, sir, but I believe that I've seen enough to infer, sir. Is she not the one you prefer?"

Alex huffed. On a normal day, he'd have the mental capacity to out-rhyme Burr, but between finishing that essay and talking with Eliza, he was spent. More coffee. That's what he needed.

"Honestly, Burr, why's it even your business?"

"I'm just asking, Alex. _Sir_. Am I not allowed to talk to my friend?"

"Don't you have anything better to do, Aaron?"

"As a matter of fact, no. I finished all my work on Saturday. If you're typing that essay for Washington's history, might I offer some advice, and recommend that you mention Gustave Courbet's championing of Realism, which I'm sure you remember was the counter-movement towards romanticism?"

Alex grumbled, but typed a few sentences into his essay. "It's just like you to do something like that, Burr."

"Do what?"

"Finish on Saturday. Like, _live _a little, man. College is more than just your education."

"Isn't the entire point of college to get a higher education?" Burr kept up his smile, but his eyes said something different. A challenge.

"That doesn't mean that you can't have any fun while doing so," Alex returned.

Burr stared intensely at Alex for a moment, seemingly contemplating him before shrugging. "I suppose you may be right, Hamilton."

"What else did you expect from me, Burr?" Alex said cockily.

"Pride goeth before the fall." Burr mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Enjoy your coffee, Alex." Burr stood up and left. Alex ordered one final coffee on the go, then packed up his stuff and left. Life at King's was great. Eliza was his friend, his classes were going excellently, and there was more food and drink around in this one campus than there ever was in his entire hometown. So what if Burr was being cryptic and trying to challenge him in some strange, intellectual way? That was fine. Surely, no harm would ever come from him.

* * *

**Credit to Rhyme Zone for the terrible rhymes. Credit to Wikipedia for information on Romanticism, as well as its counter-movement known as Realism. Thanks for reading, and until next time. **


	16. Chapter 16: Slam on the Brake

Chapter 16: Slam on the Brake

Monday. Most of the time, Monday's were dreadful days, but today was an especially dreadful one as Washington took the podium up at the center of the room.

"Today, I'm sorry to report the unfortunate loss of one of your classmates, Connor Murphy." Washington looked really, really tired. Like a college student who had to pull two all-nighters over a weekend to get something done. No amount of caffeine can really help once you reach a certain point of fatigue. "He was enrolled in this very class. We'll all miss him."

Everyone looked around at each other with expressions ranging from shock to horror to confusion. Dead? Really?

"If he was in this class, how come nobody ever saw him?" Alana's voice cut through the silence.

Washington shrugged. It practically looked like the effort to raise his shoulders was killing him. "Most of the time, he was simply absent."

Silence.

"If anybody needs help working through this difficult and troublesome time, counseling is always open to you." Washington rubs his eye. "In any case, let's - let's get on with the lesson. Hopefully, you've finished your essays about the history of romanticism. This week, we're going to build on those essays and…"

Evan wasn't listening. Less than a minute of shock, and already, everyone was back to normal. There was Alana, listening attentively and writing down a whole dictionary's worth of notes. There was Jared - actually, Jared wasn't even here. He was probably still asleep, if Evan knew anything about him. There was Thomas, with his classic expression halfway between feigned boredom and genuine interest, and there was Alex, typing away at his laptop. There was Heather, laughing with Heather and Heather, and there was Catherine, talking with Katherine and Catherine.

What _was _this? Connor Murphy was _dead_. He was never coming back. It was like… it was like he was never even here.

_Although, technically, he never _was _here. In this classroom. Because he was always absent. _

Still, Evan thought. The point still stood. Nobody gave a crap that their classmate had died, clearly.

_What would Connor think about this? Really? _

Evan idly questioned where Connor might have sat in this room. Probably way, way far in the back, farther away from everything than even Jared, doing his own thing.

He stared at the seat in the back, looking at it intensely, driven on by his musings, by the thought that _someone _would have to remember Connor. Someone, at least.

In fact, staring at Connor would probably piss him off. Hm…

"Hey." Evan made the little apparition of Connor in his head speak. "What the hell are you looking at?"

Evan did not stop staring, and so "Connor" came over and got up in his face.

"Hey, asshole. I'm talking to you! What the hell are you looking at?"

Evan laughed a little to himself, a tiny sound in his chest. He was being completely ridiculous. Who was he to assume how Connor acted, anyway? He was pretending to know the guy, sure, but that didn't mean that he actually did.

Seeming to come to the realization that he was not, in fact, real, the mental image of Connor clenched his hands into fists. Brimming with rage, yet markedly unable to do anything about it, he retreated back to his faraway seat. Evan dismissed the fantasy and returned his attention to the teacher without a second thought.

* * *

Weeks would pass. As September faded away into October and the season of fall marched on, Evan entered an ever-increasing state of anxiety over what the Murphys were thinking. He had not seen Zoe during any of his classes, and her parents had not said a word.

But while Evan slowly descended into a more and more unhealthy state, his roommate's life began to get markedly better and better.

"You're heading out again?" Evan asked as he watched Alex pull on a somewhat worn jacket.

"Just as always." Alex looked at the doorway, not even looking at Evan, and the latter resigned himself to being so invisible that even the person who slept in the same cramped room as him wouldn't acknowledge him.

Alex turned his head and looked at him. "You wanna tag along, Hansen? It'd be great to have you over. Being alone for that long isn't good for you, y'know."

"I'm fine," Evan hurriedly responded. Perhaps being noticed wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. "Besides, I'm … I'm not alone."

Alex looked at his friend confusedly before shrugging and exiting the room.

The instant he stepped out, Evan flipped out his laptop and called Jared. Dammit, his anxiety was eating him from the inside out. He couldn't go another day like this. He needed to talk to someone, _anyone_, even if it was only Jared.

Evan regretted his decision almost instantly upon hearing the voice of his "friend".

"What the hell did you mess up now?"

"What?"

"You always call me whenever you've created some terrible disaster. So I'm asking you. What the hell did you mess up now?"

"It's like, I just can't handle it. It's been forever since we dropped off those emails, and I haven't heard a word from any of the Murphys. Why? Why? I'm freaking out. I can't-"

"Ok, ok, stop." Evan could hear the disdain in Jared's voice. "Why are you panicking over nothing? LITERALLY nothing. There's NOTHING wrong, and you're still complaining."

"It's the nothing that scares me!" Evan exclaimed. "It's not normal. Something's gone wrong."

A little notification appeared on Evan's screen. He had an email.

Through all this time, Evan had constantly checked his email. After all, he'd used his actual email address in the fake emails. Why wouldn't he? And since it was the most available form of communication, the Murphys would certainly use it to reply to him.

Or so he had thought. Weeks had gone by, and Evan had gotten many emails. Each time he saw one, that same horrible mixture of horror and dread bubbled up in him before he mustered up enough strength to open it. Each time, it turned out to be something unrelated and completely unimportant.

And now, here was another one. Evan sucked in a breath, trying to prevent himself from vomiting. It would be fine. Probably another advertisement from a store he'd been to recently, or something. It had been every time before.

"Hey. Hey, what happened? Did you have a stroke or something?"

Evan could not hear Jared's swords. Too much blood rushed to his head.

This email was from Cynthia Murphy.

Evan scanned the subject. "Your emails". Wow. So helpful. That certainly let a guy know what the contents of this email were about, to be sure.

Now sweating up a storm, Evan nervously clicked open the email. He was shaking. He was going to slide right out of his chair and fall to the ground if he did not stop shaking.

"They sent me an email. Just now," he managed to croak out.

Jared paused for a second. Evan wondered what silence with him would sound like. This was it. Just like any other silence.

But only for a second. "What? What does it say?"

"Dear Evan." Evan cleared his throat. Where was his water bottle? He really, really needed some water. "We as a family are so fortunate to have received these emails from you. On the behalf of all of us, I'd like to say thank you."

"See! Nothing to worry about," Jared crowed.

"With these emails, you've given us a piece of our son back," Evan continued. "The idea that Connor had a friend… it gives us hope. It gives us warmth, and joy."

"Once again, I'd like to thank you. You're a great person, Evan. A great person."

"Sincerely, Cynthia."

"See! Everything turned out alright. You got away with your stupid lie. You're welcome." Evan could just _feel _Jared's smugness.

"Yeah… I guess…"

"No 'thank you'? Nothing for getting you out of that mess?"

"Thanks, Jared…"

"You're welcome."

Jared disconnected from the call, leaving Evan to stare at his blank, empty computer screen.

So. That was that. He really _had _gotten away with it. It didn't seem like the Murphys wanted anything more from him. It was all over.

Why, then, did he feel so empty? So unfulfilled? It felt like he was walking away from this half-finished. It felt wrong.

Evan shut his laptop and went over to his bed. Lying was exhausting. He was exhausted. Really, really exhausted. He'd worry about his troubles… in the morning...


	17. Chapter 17: Another Round Tonight

Chapter 17: Another Round Tonight

It was another rowdy Friday night for Alex as October 15 faded away and turned into October 16. He sat where he always did, surrounded by his friends. Even Aaron was here today, sipping on some non-alcoholic beverage in the corner and reading a book.

"You know, Alex, I'm so glad that I got to meet you." John drunkenly slung an arm across Alex's shoulders and looked directly into his eyes.

"Yeah… I'm glad I got to meet you, too." Ordinarily, Alex didn't really enjoy getting touched by people. People only made physical contact with him while bad things were happening. Yet somehow, John's touch was different. It was comforting. It made him feel safe, for the first time since his mother died.

"Our dear _professeur _Washington, he does not joke," Lafayette mentioned as he took another shot. "I feel as though half the work I do is related to his class."

"You think YOU have a lot of work? Man, are you kidding yourself?" Hercules let out one of those big, body-shaking laughs that he always seemed to enjoy.

It was strange, sometimes, to remember that Hercules was a junior. It would only be two years until he graduated. Yet, for whatever reason, he'd gravitated to a bunch of freshmen. Go figure.

Alex glanced out the window, John's arm still at his side, and saw a familiar figure standing there. Despite it being cast in shadow, Alex could still instantly recognize it, and he could still tell that it was looking at him. Watching him. Judging him, almost.

"I… gotta go outside. Get some air," Alex gasped. He flung John's arm off him, put his half-filled glass on the table, and stumbled out the door of Sam Adams.

His three friends watched him go, then shrugged and continued with their drinking.

As Alex fumbled his way out of the bar, Eliza entered it. So distracted was Alex that he didn't even notice her, passing within a foot of the love of his life and not giving her a single word.

This didn't seem to bother Eliza too much, who sent him a fleeting smile before walking in and waving at her other friends.

"Hey, guys." She slid her way into the empty seat Alex had vacated.

"Hey, 'Liza." John tilted his head and squinted, as though he wasn't capable of seeing a person sitting not more than five feet away from him.

"Hi, John. How's things?"

"Good, good." John rubbed at his eye.

"Is it really? You seem a little down."

Dammit. Was she a mind-reader or something? How else could she know how shitty he felt?

"He-" John coughed. He'd consumed large amounts of alcohol before, but this amount tonight felt like far too much. "He really loves you, you know."

"Alex, right?"

"Yeah…"

Eliza turned to look at him, now a shadow standing outside. "Why do you care so much?"

"He's my…" John seemed to think about the question for a moment. "He's my friend."

"Isn't he that to everyone?"

"Do you like him?"

Eliza drew into herself a bit. "That's a personal question."

"C'mon, 'Liza. You can tell me." He opened his eyes as wide as he could. Hercules had once mentioned that he looked like a begging puppy dog. It was worth a shot now. "We're basically siblings. You can tell me anything."

She sighed. "I…"

Before she could say more than one word of her sentence, Alex blew back into the place and made his way over to his table.

"Could I have my seat back?" he asked, evidently still too distracted to notice who he was talking to.

"Of course," Eliza replied, smiling sweetly as she got up, dusted herself off a bit, and left.

Alex sat down, hard, and stared at the woodwork of the table. After ten whole seconds of doing so and not acknowledging anybody else, he looked up, his eyes wide as realization dawned on him.

"That… who I just asked to get out… that was…"

"Alex, I think you've had too much to drink." Hercules snatched the shot in front of his friend away, barely able to avoid exploding into a laughing fit.

"I was so rude!" Alex shouted angrily. Several people around turned to look at him strangely. "What the heck am I doing?"

"She doesn't seem too upset," John pointed out.

"Of course she doesn't seem upset. She never acts like she's upset with anyone. She's that nice."

"How would you even know that?"

"Ask Burr!" Alex did not lower his voice as he dramatically pointed to the boy, still in the corner, reading.

John, Lafayette, and Hercules just shook their heads.

"My friend, if you need some tips, I can always help," Lafayette offered, wiggling his eyebrows. "Everybody knows that the French are the best at making love."

"Uh…" Alex seemed to spend about twenty seconds trying to think about what Lafayette just said. "Maybe," he finally responded.

"You know the Schyulers are hosting a big-ass party this Halloween?" Hercules asked. "You ought to come. I'm sure I could score you an invite."

"Halloween? Isn't that, like, for little kids?" Alex's experience with holidays had been rather brief during his childhood, to say the least.

"Are you joking? Us college students have the biggest Halloweens out of anyone!" John whooped.

Alex blinked, and tried to think about it. Was that really how things were, over here in the States? He'd been here for a month, but there were still things he had to learn about this place.

"I don't… I don't think I should go."

"What? Why not?" John asked, pretending to be dissapointed.

"And by the way, who were you talking to outside?" Hercules asked.

Alex shook his head, as though there was something inside of it he was trying to dislodge. "It's unimportant. I just… I can't go."

"Aw, man." Hercules was genuinely upset by this.

Lafayette leaned forward. "Alex, _petite lion. _If you cannot come to this one, at least come to the next one. It shall be during winter."

"But I'm gonna have a ton of work by then…"

"You gotta come, man!" John said, smiling unhappily at what he was forcing himself to do.

Alex sighed. "Fine," he muttered at long last. "I'll come. Ok?"

"Eyyy!" his three tablemates replied.

* * *

**Do leave a favorite, and if you're feeling adventurous, why not leave a review? That stuff feeds my soul. Thanks for reading!**


	18. Chapter 18: You Still Matter

Chapter 18: You Still Matter

Evan twisted and turned under his blankets. It was late that night, so late that Alex had returned from his escapades and fell asleep as though he'd been hit with a sack of rocks. It was so late that it was going to be morning in a few hours, so was it late, or was it early?

While Alex seemed quite content, Evan simply could not get comfortable in his bed, no matter which way he lay. His broken arm felt awful, refusing to cooperate with the rest of him.

The boy flipped his pillow around for what felt like the millionth time. Even that task was difficult now, considering that he was forced to do it with his weaker hand and an unmoving limb. Why? Why did things have to be so difficult?

He rolled over and suddenly felt his heart jolt into his throat upon seeing a tall, dark figure standing over his bed.

"Evan. We need to talk."

Connor. That was Connor's voice. Connor was speaking to him.

"W… what? What is it?"

"What do you think it is? People are forgetting about me."

_If they ever even cared in the first place. _Sure, Evan didn't know Connor, but he at least pretended like he cared. Not one single other person seemed to be able to muster up the effort to accomplish that.

"Why should I care?" Evan mumbled, turning away.

"Evan." Connor's voice had a sense of urgency to it that Evan had never heard in real life. "Think, man. C'mon. This is your shot."

"My shot at what?"

"At everything you've ever wanted. To be noticed. To be present. To _matter." _Connor was pacing the room now, seemingly in agitation.

He received no response, so he continued to talk and pace and be agitated.

"Look. Don't think about it as helping yourself. Think about it as helping _me_. I… I don't want to be forgotten."

"You're not even real. You're dead. I must be dreaming or something," Evan murmured.

"And so what if you are? Am I wrong?" Connor went over, physically grabbed Evan, and turned him so that they were facing each other.

This, certainly, was strange. Evan had never recalled being physically touched in a dream, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible. Such was the thought process in the boy's addled, tired brain.

"No… I guess not," Evan agreed.

"Nobody cares about people like us." Ah. Dream-Connor was apparently extremely angsty, for whatever reason. The man's emotions flip-flopped on a dime.

"No one deserves to be forgotten." Connor let go of Evan and turned away, saying the words to nothing. An imaginary boy speaking to an imaginary crowd. "No one deserves to fade away."

"Why are you singing?" Connor's voice seemed to be pitching upwards.

"Think of everyone who needs to know. Please," Connor begged.

* * *

Evan awoke with a start in a puddle of sweat. The only noise he could hear was the sound of Alex's breathing and the light breeze outside, beyond the window. Connor was nowhere to be found.

He took a deep breath. Then another, then another. It had all just been a dream. A very realistic, very odd dream, but a dream nonetheless. There was nothing to be afraid of.

The exact details of what transpired were slipping away, but the essentially parts of it were still there. Connor, asking him to keep his memory alive. How ridiculous. _Him? _Evan Hansen? Who gave a shit about what _he _said?

Evan closed his eyes, then opened them. Was that imaginary Connor wrong, though? _Somebody _had to keep his memory alive, and if it was Evan who had to do it, then shouldn't he do it? Didn't he have an obligation to do so?

He rolled over to look at his clock. Five-thirty in the morning. His first class was at nine. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, and it wasn't like he'd be able to succeed, anyway.

The boy groaned a bit, got out of bed, and opened his laptop. He pulled up a new document and started typing, just as he'd seen Alex frantically do so many times before, working until the sun came up.

* * *

Alex and Evan both ended up trotting to Washington's history class together, right next to each other physically but a million worlds apart mentally.

When they arrived, Evan slowly made his way towards the back of the room. How wonderfully convenient for him, that Jared was actually attending class today, and that he and Alana sat in close vicinity to one another.

He felt moisture begin to pool in the hand that held the pamphlet he'd made just that morning. No. He wasn't turning around. Not this time.

"We're calling it the Connor Project."

* * *

_With hindsight, he would come to realize that this was a terrible idea. If he'd just quieted the voice in his head, if he'd just let things drop, he would have lived a much better life. Heck, at the very least, he'd have lived._

* * *

**Apologies for the short(er) chapter this time. I've had a bit of a block. Hopefully, I can get out of it and continue to write for you guys. Thanks for reading. Or, well, continuing to read. **


	19. Chapter 19: More of a Phenomenon

Chapter 19: More of a Phenomenon

Alex and Evan both ended up trotting to Washington's history class together, right next to each other physically but a million worlds apart mentally.

When they arrived and Evan hurried off, Alex happily made his way over to his seat. Mondays. You could tell that some people looked crushed under the strain of the workload, but Alex felt better than he'd ever had. He thrived off the work.

"Hey, Alex!"

The boy turned to see Angelica happily waving at him. "Hey, hang out with us."

Alex blinked in surprise before shifting his attention to Eliza. She was grinning from ear to ear at him. Evidently, that girl _could _work miracles, because Angelica had done a complete 180 on him.

He glanced over at Hercules and Aaron. They were both grinning and gesturing that he should go. Emboldened by his friends' arm-waving, he went over, sat next to her, and began his most enjoyable history class yet.

* * *

More time passed, just as it always did. Halloween came and went, and Alex spent it working, wondering just what he might be missing as he typed into the night.

A few feet away across the dorm room, Evan was also working, madly conducting the Connor Project as though he were in a trance. Jared and Alana had been surprisingly receptive of the idea, and when they'd gone over to pitch the idea to the Murphys, they were more gung-ho about it than he was. Oddly enough, Zoe wasn't there, but that was all the better. Evan wasn't sure if he had enough moisture in his body left to sweat out.

It turned out, however, that starting something - anything, really - in college was a much more difficult endeavor than it would have been in, say, high school. So many hoops to jump through, so much paperwork that had to be written in order for even just a single assembly to be called.

November passed, and the two boys spent countless hours, toiling side-by-side. Winter break rolled around, and while most students happily enjoyed the break from their studies, the two of them continued to work.

Of course, Alex had already finished his assignments ages before they were due. Currently, he just spent his time writing essays, theses on the economy, on the country, and on politics. It was his vice, his source of pleasure. He'd lose himself sometimes in the paragraphs he built.

He still managed to make time for his friends and for excessive consumption of alcohol, of course. He would hardly be Alexander Hamilton if he did not.

"It's the Schyuler's big party soon," Hercules mentioned, downing another shot happily.

"And remember, you promised to go," John added.

Alex rubbed his temples. "Damn it. Really? I've got stuff I want to do."

"What stuff could that possibly be?"

"Work."

"My friend, S'il vous plaît." Lafayette leaned forward. "My offer is still standing. Like I say before, the French are the best-"

"At making love. Just ask any pig or dog you find in the field."

Thomas Jefferson sauntered in with James Madison lurking behind him. The former was grinning from ear to ear, as though he'd just told a funny joke.

"Take that back," John spat as he rose up from his chair. Several people swung to look at the interesting situation.

"Your friend can speak for himself," Jefferson shot back. Lafayette looked like he was about to blow his top off. One could almost see cartoonish steam coming out of his ears.

"Or has he already surrendered?" Thomas continued. "Just like his people always do."

Lafayette jumped up. "Vous enculé!" he screamed. "Je te deteste. La France est la meilleure! Je vais te fourrer une baguette dans le cul, espèce de connard pompeux!"

"He's cursing at you in French," Alex helpfully translated.

James glowered a bit at Lafayette, and the latter slowed down slightly. Despite being a rather quiet and sickly person, he was built as wide and strong as Hercules, and definitely looked like he wouldn't be a pushover in a fight.

"Now, how about we all relax a bit?" Hercules asked, suddenly looking somewhat frightened.

"How about you stop being a pus-"

Before Thomas could finish his insult, Alex walked up to him and punched him in the gut.

Thomas was surprised. Alex was surprised. Heck, everyone was surprised. But it felt so immensely satisfying, seeing the pained expression on his face and the feel of Thomas almost doubling over.

What was less satisfying was when Jefferson returned and swung at Alex so hard in the arm that he nearly knocked him over. Alex was flung backwards before catching himself on the table, barely avoiding smacking his head.

John lunged forward and attempted to slide-tackle Jefferson, only to miss by a few feet and knock some other random person over. They flailed and hit someone else, and suddenly, it was a full-on bar fight between everyone around, nobody knowing or caring who started it.

Burr stood up and put himself between Hamilton and Jefferson, desperately trying to convince them to stop fighting. This was a bad idea. Alex, already in the process of throwing another punch and unable to stop himself, hit Burr square on the cheek.

On instinct, Aaron punched back and hit hard enough to send Alex back several feet once again, hitting the floor.

Thomas laughed. Hercules rammed his shoulder into him and knocked him down, turning his laugh into a strange mixture of laughter and screaming.

"Oh, God!" Aaron shouted. He ran over to his friend's fallen form. "Are you alright? I'm sorry."

"Nah, I'm good." Alex spat a little bit of blood on the floor. A bottle smashed against a counter somewhere, sending shards of glass flying. "Maybe we should leave."

And so the two of them carefully wound their way around the chaotic fighting and left. John, Laf, and Hercules clearly had the same idea, and were all nursing various wounds that they had sustained during the tussle.

"Let's leave," John suggested.

And so, they did.

* * *

It was odd. Rumor had it that at least one person had been hospitalized thanks to the incident at the bar that Alex himself had ignited, but nothing happened to him. The authorities didn't come to take him away. It seemed as though this sort of thing happened at Sam Adams frequently. At least, that's what Alex had gathered from the whole experience.

The only thing that reminded him that it wasn't some sort of crazy hallucination or something was the constant dirty looks that Thomas would shoot him whenever they crossed paths. Man, that guy was a pest.

One week more, and Alex woke up to the realization that he'd be attending the Schyuler's party.

What an obligation, it felt like. More so than any assignment he'd been given.

_Eliza's there, _he reminded himself.

* * *

And that's how he somehow found himself in the back of John Laurens' crappy car, wearing the one nice dress shirt and one formal pair of pants he owned, trying to smile and pretend like he was enjoying himself while also pretending he wasn't pretty damn stressed out.

The mile-long driveway of the Schyuler mansion was jam-packed, and so it was a mile-long walk that the quartet would be taking, which gave Alex plenty of time to admire the house that he would be partying in. The young man still could not understand how a living space could be this big.

He steeled himself. _Focus. It's showtime._

**Credit to Google Translate, because I do not speak French. **


	20. Chapter 20: A Winter's Ball

Chapter 20: A Winter's Ball

"So you're the famous Alexander Hamilton that everybody's been talking about."

Alex had been sitting at a table in a kitchen. Of course, the kitchen he was in had multiple tables, and the mansion obviously had multiple kitchens.

The course of the past two hours had been interesting, to say the least. His friends had all split up. "Left him to it," they said. Left him to find a single person in a crowd of hundreds, it seemed.

He discovered that he was actually a bit overdressed for the occasion, so that was a bit embarrassing. He discovered that he somehow was able to dance adequately, so that was good. His charm made up for any ridiculous clothing he might be wearing. And he discovered that there were apparently no alcoholic beverages in the mansion, so that was a bit of a bummer. He was currently nursing a Pepsi and trying to remember where the nearest bathroom was for future reference when he heard someone calling his name.

He turned to look at the origin of the voice. An unfamiliar young girl who most certainly couldn't have been out of high school was on the other side of the table, smiling cheerfully at him. She wore a yellow blouse and sweatpants. Literally sweatpants.

"That's me," he confirmed. "And you are?"

"The one who runs this house, of course. Peggy Schyuler."

Alex grinned. What a nice bonus for attending tonight, getting to meet the third Schyuler sister. "What happened to your parents?"

"I tied 'em up in the basement. Shh, don't tell anyone," she asked with a conspiratorial wink.

Alex laughed. He already loved this girl in the most platonic way imaginable.

* * *

"A Winter's Ball, and the Schyuler sisters are the envy of all," Aaron muttered to himself.

"Hey, Burr!" Alex sat down next to his friend. Friend? Aaron was better than nothing, at least. "What's up? What'd you just say?"

Aaron turned to face Alex. "Hey. If you could get with a sister, you're rich, son."

There he went again, always being odd. Alex would indulge him, just as he always did.

"Is it a question of 'if', Burr, or 'which one'?"

"For as long as I've known you, Alex, you've always been so quick-witted."

"Er." Alex had just spotted Eliza across the room, sitting alone. He'd been waiting for hours for this moment, practicing the words that he would say over and over, and yet now he found himself markedly incapable of doing anything at all.

Burr smirked. "Go, man. Go."

Aaron's words snapped him out of it. Alex got up from his seat, straightened his shirt, and made his way over to his destiny.

* * *

"Eliza! Hello. Thank you so much for inviting me."

"Alex!" The middle Schyuler sister seemed to brighten. "I've been looking all over for you. Here, here, this way."

Tugging on his sleeve with surprising force, Eliza pulled him away. Alex just let himself get dragged down the maze of hallways, not quite believing his luck.

The bedroom the pair ended up in was nicer than any bedroom Alex had ever seen in his entire life. And judging from the seamless, unworn look of the place, it didn't even look slept in at all.

Alex only vaguely registered the luxury that he found himself in, the vast majority of his attention on the other person in the room with him. She never tried to lord her wealth over anyone, and it wasn't as thought she needed expensive clothes - she was already beautiful.

She took a strand of her hair and began to fiddle with it, almost nervously. Alex stared at the action before coming to the realization that he was staring, and that was probably what was causing all the nervous tension between them.

This time, Alex did literally pinch himself to get back to reality. At a party in a mansion, sitting on a bed next to the girl of his dreams.

"Eliza," he blurted out. "I love you."

She gave him a bit of a teasing smile, a pair of dimples forming on her cheeks. "I know. You already told me, remember?"

"Well, I love you so much that I thought I'd remind you. It's been a few months since the first time I said those words, right?" Alex tried for a smile weakly before dropping it for a more earnest expression. Screw that. He couldn't do that, not while his insides were roiling and his mind was going on the fritz.

Eliza responded by wrapping her arms around the now-shaking boy. Her embrace felt so warm, and damn, she smelled nice. Like mint. How on earth did she smell so good, even after hours of partying?

"Alex. You're a great guy. One of the most wonderful people I've ever met."

Alexander Hamilton felt tears well up in his eyes suddenly in a fit of emotion. No. This wasn't right.

"I… I shouldn't be doing this." The moisture in his eyes threatened to spill over. He weakly tugged at Eliza's arms, trying to get her off him.

She let him go, turning to look at him inquisitively.

"You don't know me. You don't even know me." John's words from a while ago echoed back. He was right all along.

He didn't know what came over him, but there the words were, tumbling out of his mouth. His entire story. Born a bastard in the Caribbean, orphaned. The lowest on the totem pole of society. Every excruciating detail he spilled while Eliza sat and listened.

Once his speech was over, Alex kept his eyes firmly planted on the floor. He did not want to see the consequences of his rash actions.

A sad, strangled sort of sound broke the silence Alex left, and he looked up to see tears rolling down Eliza's cheeks.

The boy sat there in shock as she closed the distance and embraced him once again.

"Alex. It's alright," she said once she'd managed to put herself back together again. "I love you just the way you are."

Alex hugged her back fiercely, the words piercing his numbness. She loved him. Somehow, this beautiful, perfect girl who was much too good for him loved him back.

The two of them stayed together like that, pressed up against one another.

For about three seconds.

The door to the room slammed open, causing both Alex and Eliza to jump away from one another in shock. There in the doorway stood Angelica Schyuler.

Her face flashed through several unidentifiable emotions before quickly settling on a smirk.

"Well, well, well. Hey, guys. Come look what we got here."

A dozen different people crowded in to see, people Alex all recognized. It appeared as though his friends had not forgotten about him after all.

"Hey." Peggy pointed up at the ceiling. Everyone looked upwards to see a strand of mistletoe hung above the couple.

"Now you gotta do it. C'mon." She grinned and bounced from foot to foot in excitement.

The two people - the two lovers, now, didn't resist. Eliza leaned into him, and their lips met.

Now this… this was heaven. Alex never wanted to stop kissing her.


	21. Chapter 21: May You Always Be Satisfied

Chapter 21: May You Always Be Satisfied

"A toast to the groom!" Angelica shouted. She wasn't drunk. Nobody was drunk, but partying hard for several hours will still leave a person out of sorts, it seemed. Everyone was chaotically singing and shouting to Alex and Eliza in one of the Schyuler mansion's large rooms.

"This isn't a wedding," Alex complained.

"To the groom!" everyone shouted, raising soda cans, bottled water, and in rare cases, actual glasses in the air.

"To the bride, from your sister, who is always by your side,"

"Why are you singing?" Alex asked.

Burr chuckled as he walked up to Alex's side. "Just a few rhyming words I cooked up on the fly. Everybody's tripping over themselves to salute you."

"To your union, and the hope that you provide." Everyone was listening to Angelica, but no one was watching her. If they were paying the slightest bit more attention, they might have noticed the blatantly pained expression on her face, or the fact that the hand holding her cup was shaking so badly that the drink inside of it was spilling on the floor.

"And may you always be satisfied."

_**Rewind…**_

* * *

Chapter 17: Another Round Tonight

It was another Friday night as October 15 faded away and turned into October 16. Angelica Schyuler stood outside of Sam Adams and watched Alexander enjoying himself from within.

Alexander Hamilton. She didn't even know his name a month ago. Now, he was everything to her. _Everything. _

The boy in question finally looked up from his drinking and saw Angelica standing there outside. He rose to his feet and made his way over to the door.

Butterflies immediately erupted in her stomach. There was nobody in Angelica Schyuler's life who had ever made her nervous, but somehow, Alex did. Alex could do what nobody else could.

Alex opened the door and stood next to her. He began to look through the window of the bar in the same way she did, as though he was trying to see what she saw.

"Angelica," he finally said. "It's a bit of a surprise for me to see you around here."

"Alexander," she retorted. "It's not a surprise at all for me to see you around here."

"You wound me so badly. Do I really spend so much time here?"

"Yes."

The two of them settled into silence once more. John was animatedly talking to Eliza about something.

"You know, you seem like someone who will never be satisfied."

"Excuse me? I think you're forgetting yourself here."

"I'm sorry." He genuinely did look sorry, for once. The fiery, unstoppable Alexander Hamilton looked sorrowful for his actions. "It's just… I always thought you were like me. I'm never satisfied."

"Is that right?"

"I've never been satisfied."

In a sudden move, Alex reached over and gently grabbed her hand. Angelica let him have it as he raised it to his lips and kissed it.

Immediately after this gesture of affection, Alex dropped her hand as though it was a hot stone, suddenly looking horrified at his own behavior. Muttering an unhearable apology, he retreated back into the bar.

Angelica felt like she was floating. What _was _this feeling? Was this what love was? She felt freed. Yes, Alexander clearly didn't learn upper-class etiquette or go home to a mansion over the holidays, but that hardly mattered. She was falling for him anyway.

Not fifteen seconds after Alexander had left, Eliza came out and took his place by Angelica's side. The million thoughts racing through the older Schyuler's head halted as her sister began to speak aloud.

"I think I'm in love," she whispered, so softly that Angelica almost didn't hear it.

"Who's the lucky man?" Angelica probed, pretending to not know.

"Alex. You know him. Alexander Hamilton."

Angelica embraced her sister, just so that she wouldn't see the tears threatening to spill over. She knew what had to be done, but that didn't make it any easier to do it.

"Then we'll make him yours, 'Liza. He's yours."

_**Rewind…**_

* * *

John Laurens was completely, unequivocally bi. That was just what he was.

Unfortunately for him, he grew up in the deep South, which was not exactly the friendliest towards folks like him. He'd learned to just keep to himself, and he swore that he'd never come out. Not to his peers. Not to his siblings. Not to the world. That was simply the way things were.

This didn't work out very well. John was never an actor - he was always outspoken, always out there, and he could never hide a secret. The entire Laurens family knew that something was wrong, and they all treaded around the issue as though they were walking on a frozen pond.

Eventually, John couldn't take it anymore. Coming out to his father had been one of the most difficult things he'd ever done in his life, but he'd done it. It took him two tries to get the words out of his mouth, but he'd done it.

John had half-expected to get beaten over the head about it or disowned or something. He was not. Henry Laurens loved and trusted his eldest son, and if his son was telling him that he was bi, well, then he was bi. He would accept it.

After the hugs and the nods and hearing his father say it was all right (quietly), the two would reach a certain unspoken agreement. John would not celebrate pride month, he wouldn't write gay fanfiction, and he most certainly would not bring any boys home, much as he sometimes wanted to. He would not flaunt himself. In return, his father would allow John to be who he was. There would be no fits of rage, no disowning. Henry would be tolerant.

Of course, John wasn't an idiot. He knew that things could have been better, that he shouldn't have to be stifled like this. But it was more than he could have hoped for, and so he was happy.

Over the years, he'd had many a crush on a girl or boy he saw. Infatuation, he called it. Nothing important, and nothing he'd ever act on.

Then he met Alex. From the moment he saw him in the bar with Aaron Burr, John knew exactly what was going on. At long last, he'd found his soul mate. He'd found the one he was meant to be with.

John had never met someone so beautiful in his entire life. When it turned out that Alex did the same things he did and stood for the same things he did, well. There wasn't any stopping his heart from going out yonder.

But then, of course, he had to go and fall in love with Elizabeth Schyuler at first sight. Just his rotten luck. His competition was literally the most ideal girlfriend to ever exist. Smart, beautiful, kind. Perfect.

John held no hate for her. It's difficult to do that when you've been bosom friends since kindergarten. Of course, that didn't mean there wasn't any deep-sated bitterness and envy.

The two of them mattered more. For their sake, he'd swallow his pride and stand to the side. He'd try his best to be satisfied with being "just friends" with Alex. He'd learn to be satisfied. He had to.

* * *

Angelica nearly ran out of the room that everyone was in after finishing, not paying attention to where she was going. Once she was out of the crowd, she sat down against the wall. Silent tears began to pour, physically shaking her.

She looked up for a moment. It was late at night, just like how it was when she gave up Alex for two months or so ago.

The memory of that time made her cry harder. This was some sort of sick joke the universe was playing on her. It had to be. She would never be satisfied.

"Hey," a weak voice said.

Angelica looked up. Huddled in the opposite corner of the area was none other than John Laurens, tear marks identical to her own streaking his face.

The two of them just looked at each other for a little bit, both of their hearts stolen by the same man.

God dammit, Alexander.

* * *

**If you couldn't tell, I had this chapter in the works for a pretty long time. I very much enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. **

**If you did enjoy it, please leave a review and/or favorite. It feeds the soul. Fanfiction authors love it when you guys do that. **

**Until next time!**


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